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A WOMAN'S 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF EUROPE. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES 



MADE DURING A SHORT TOUR IN THE YEAR 1863. 



BY MRS. E. A. FORBES. 



NEW YORK: 
DERBY & MILLEE. 



1865. 



sss 



THE LIBRARY 
Or CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, 

By DERBY & MILLER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Northern District of New York. 






THOMAS, TYPOGRAPHER, 
BUFFALO. 



TO 

* 



JRr. and |Rrs. letirg m. losers, 

THE DEAR FRIENDS, 

UNDER WHOSE PROTECTION LIFELONG DREAMS HAVE BECOME 

REALITIES, THESE WAYSIDE SKETCHES OF SCENES 

WHICH WE HAVE ENJOYED TOGETHER, 

ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



PREFACE. 



The writer of the following sketches cannot send 
them forth from their original domestic destination to 
the impertinence of print, without reminding any 
who may honor them with their notice, that an egot- 
ism in incident and a dogmatism in criticism, which 
would be insufferable, if intended for the public eye, 
are simply the shortest and easiest mode of recording 
one's personal impressions in a private journal. 

To disentangle these elements from what remains, 
would prove a task altogether disproportionate to the 
value of the work; it is therefore commended to 
friendly indulgence, with an earnest disclaimer of 
these two worst vices of the literature of travel. 



ERRATA. 

Page 32, line 15, for "for"' read to. 
Page 148, line 10, for "Donneker" read Danneker. 
Page 198, line 2, for " Glisshone " read Glisshorn. 
Page 200, line 8, for "valley" read gallery. 
Page 220, line 5, for "manor" read manner. 
Page 247, line 11, for ' ' the portico " read a portico. 
Page 267, line 12, for "mysterious" read mysteries. 
Page 268, line 19, for "Centi" read Conti. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 
New York to Liverpool 9 

CHAPTER II. 

Liverpool — Chester — Eaton Hall — Bangor — Caernarvon — Llanberis — Dub- 
lin — Belfast — Giant's Causeway 22 

CHAPTER III. 

Glasgow — The Clyde — Loch Long — Loch Lomond — Ben Lomond — Loch 
Katrine — Loch Achray — Stirling — Edinburgh — Abbottsford — Melrose — 
Dryburgh.. 48 

CHAPTER IV. 

Penrith — Ulswater — Windermere — Grasmere — Rydal — Ambleside — Lan- 
caster — Haworth — York — Chesterfield — Chatsworth — Haddon Hall — 
Kenilworth — Warwick — Leamington — Stratford-on-Avon 73 

CHAPTER V. 

London — Spurgeon — St. Paul's — Westminster Abbey — Windspr Castle — 
Tower — British Museum _•_. 102 

CHAPTER VI. 

Ostend — Brussels — Waterloo — Antwerp — Malines — Cologne 120 

CHAPTER VII. 

Konigswenter — Drachenfels — The Rhine — Mayence — Weisbaden — Frank- 
fort — Baden Baden — Strasbourg — Basle _. 137 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Basle — Lake of the Four Cantons — Rigi — Sarnen — Brunig Pass — Meiringen 
— Rosenlaui — Brienz — Interlachen — Lauterbrunnen — The Staubbach — 
Thun — Berne — Lake Leman — Geneva 157 



Vlll CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Chamouni — La F16gere — Sources of the Arveiron — Tete Noire — Martigny 
— Pierre a voir — Brieg — Simplon — Domo d'Ossola — Lake Maggiore — 
Arona 181 

CHAPTER X. 
Milan — Venice 204 

CHAPTER XI. 

Padua — Bologna — Apennines — Florence — Pisa — Leghorn — The Mediter- 
ranean — Civita Vecchia . 222 

CHAPTER XII. 

Rome — St. Peter's — Vatican — Capitol — Forum — Coliseum — Naples — Her- 
culaneum — Pompeii — Museum — Chapels — Pausilippo . 240 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Rome — St. Peter's — Vatican — Villa Borghese — Pincian Hill — Palaces Ros- 
pigliosi, Borghese, Barberini, Spada — Churches of St. Augustin, St. John in 
the Lateran, St. Maria Maggiore, St. Pietro in Vinculo, Cappuccini — Scala 
Santa — Fountains — Catacombs — Columbaria — Baths — Genoa — Turin — 
MontCenis - - - --- 262 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Paris — Louvre — Notre Dame — Hotel des Invalides — Bois de Boulogne — 
Jardin des Plants — Gobelins — Chapel of St. Ferdinand — Ste. Chapelle — 
Luxembourg 284 

CHAPTER XV. 
Versailles — Pere la Chaise — Havre — English Channel 298 

CHAPTER XVI. 

London — Madame Tussaud — National Gallery — Houses of Parliament — 
Courts — St. Thomas, Chartreux — Lord Mayor's Day — Hampton Court — 
Sydenham Palace — Zoological Gardens — Thames River — Tunnel — Christ's 
Hospital — "Westminster Abbey 313 

CHAPTER XVII. 

London — Hyde Park — Theatres — South Kensington Museum — Guildhall — 
Oxford — Birmingham — Liverpool 331 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Scotia — Liverpool to New York 346 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE GREAT EASTERN. 
New York to Liverpool. 

We left Flushing yesterday, July 21st, 1863, at 
one o'clock p. M. It was blowing a gale, yet the 
great ship got under weigh without making us aware 
that she had left her moorings. She held on her 
course without perceptible motion until we left the 
Sound, and since, nothing beyond a slight roll 
reminds us that we are not upon terra flrma. 

This morning we passed one of our gunboats 
pitching and tossing upon the .waves, and later in 
the day have seen a veritable whale spouting in 
the distance. The day is charming — and the deck 
resembles the street of a city. We find our state- 
rooms delightful. The time is apparently measured 
only by alternate seasons of eating and sleeping. 
We breakfast at eight, lunch at twelve, dine at five, 
and take tea at any later hour until ten. The lights 

2 



10 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

are extinguished at half-past eleven. A trumpet is 
blown in each companion way to summon us to table, 
and a band discourses sweet music at intervals, wind- 
ing up at night with God save the Queen. The 
number of passengers is said to be between two and 
three hundred. 

July 23. The sea still smooth as a river — the 
day charming — no symptom of seasickness possible. 
The magnificent ship holds her stately way as if she 
were an island set adrift upon the waters. She is 
indeed a little world within herself. Her regular 
quota of officials is four hundred and eighty, and 
she registers twenty-five thousand tons. 

We have been upon deck all the morning, and 
its size, and the multitudes of people every where 
astir, destroy entirely the effect of isolation which 
we usually connect with the idea of a ship alone 
in an amphitheatre of sea and sky. A programme 
of games among the sailors for this afternoon has 
been put aside for the funeral of a little child among 
the steerage passengers. My heart aches for the 
mother who leaves her baby in these lone waters. 
A ball announced for eight o'clock will probably be 
postponed also. 

July 24. Another charming day. There is a 
stiff breeze, which, however, produces no perceptible 
effect upon the motion of the ship. For the last two 
days, we have made two hundred and ninety miles 
each, and our entire progress amounts to eight hun- 
dred and thirty -five miles since we weighed anchor 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 11 

in Flushing Bay. The ball came off, and lasted until 
nearly midnight. The postponed games are to be 
instituted this afternoon. Meanwhile, we enjoy the 
afternoon regulation nap ; an unlimited capacity for 
sleep seeming to be among the legitimate effects of 
seagoing. This morning, as I looked out at the port- 
hole, I saw an oar floating by — perhaps borne away 
by the tide from the peaceful shore — perhaps only 
the relic of some nameless wreck, for whose return 
loving eyes have grown dim with watching — 
perhaps it was plied by some lone wanderer towards 
a hope of safety, until death unnerved his grasp, and 
he sank down to be drifted out to the mighty sepul- 
chre, which enshrouds alike the wealth of past ages 
and the baby of yesterday. 

July 25. I do not know two more incongruous 
personalities than a Yankee ashore and a Yankee at 
sea. It would be decidedly to the advantage of the 
"universal nation" if it could be set afloat, and learn 
to enjoy the delicious dreamy idleness of ship life. 
It seems impossible to settle one's self to any more 
intense mental activity than may consist with watch- 
ing the lazy dip of the distant horizon as the great 
ship rolls gently from side to side. Occasionally a 
distant sail attracts universal attention, but for my 
own part, I should scarcely have believed it possible 
to spend so many days without a real thought. 

This morning opened fair, with a strong breeze, 
but on going upon deck this afternoon, we found 
ourselves enveloped in a thick fog. The ship goes 



12 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

on with diminished speed, blowing a warning whistle 
at short intervals, with good reason, for we are on 
the banks, and have passed a fleet of fishing boats 
with their small craft out. Little chance for the 
unlucky vessel which fails to keep a good lookout 
for the Leviathan. 

The amusements of yesterday and to-day have had 
the attraction of novelty at least. They have been 
foot races, sack races, steeple chases, hurdle races 
and cock fights. The last mentioned not being the 
inhuman sport of the feathered tribe, but a good 
natured set-to of the biped of more pretensions. It 
is conducted on this wise. Two men, having their 
hands tied, clasp their knees, and a stout stick is 
thrust under the knees and over the arms. Then, 
sitting upon the deck, face to face, they fight with 
the feet; the object of each man being to throw his 
opponent on his back, by inserting his toes under his 
feet. The match evidently requires much coolness 
and dexterity, and the last one was prolonged until 
the intensity of concentration and watchfulness on the 
part of the combatants became something painful. 
The winner is he who first throws his adversary 
three times. 

The sack race is very amusing. The men are tied 
in sacks to their throats, feet, hands and all, and 
accomplish their progress by hopping within their 
limited accommodations — of course, the slightest 
mischance sends them rolling helplessly upon the 
ground. In addition to the interest common to all 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 13 

the spectators, the races have evidently gratified the 
English thirst for betting. 

The weather grows cold, but is delightful and 
invigorating. I have not yet come to a realizing 
sense of being at sea, more than a thousand miles 
from home, and am half inclined to fancy that the 
vivid descriptions of self-consciousness which belong 
to the literature of the sea must be written after one 
has reached dry land. 

July 29. The foregoing hiatus is chargeable to 
the account of Neptune and his angry nymphs, as I 
shall proceed to show. 

On Sunday morning we came upon the wake of 
an old gale, which, having been perhaps baulked of 
the mischief for which it was brewed, proceeded to 
wreak its vengeance upon us innocent voyagers. 
We assembled in the grand saloon at eleven o'clock 
for divine service. The captain, having been up all 
night, declined his accustomed office of chaplain, 
which devolved, in consequence, upon a Presbyte- 
rian minister, who received private instructions in 
the purser's cabin upon the English service. The 
lessons were read by the Eev. Gordon Hall, son of 
the first American missionary to India, and the ser- 
mon preached by a Scotch minister from Toronto. 
The band led the music in the adjoining saloon. 

This was one of three services held at the same time 

i 

in the enormous vessel. 

For my own part, I soon became aware that the 
ship had added to her usual roll a peculiar lifting of 



1-i WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

her forefoot, producing a gastric complication by no 
means enviable, and I prudently seated myself near 
the door ; where, having remained until the conclu- 
sion of the morning praj-er, I found it expedient to 
beat a hasty retreat ; and for a few moments my 
personal experience of the malady of the sea would 
have satisfied the wishes of my best medical advisers. 
But the disease is fatal neither to life nor spirits, and 
although I had missed the sermon, I stood at the 
port-hole, and the magnificent waves took to them- 
selves a text and preached to me a solitary sermon 
upon the might of Him who has poured these resist- 
less waters from the hollow of His hand, and yet has 
made of the sand a bound to the sea that it shall not 
pass over. I remarked, too, that the angrier the wave, 
the more beautiful was its crest, and I thought of 
His tender love, that outrides the billows of turmoil 
and pain, and brings, even out of their own depths, 
joy and peace by the light of His countenance. 

But the gale freshened, and presently the move- 
ables of our domain broke away and went adrift — 
chairs, tables and trunks performing gyrations after 
the most approved style of a modern waltz ; while 
the peregrinations of the inhabitants were performed 
upon decidedly original principles. But the careful 
steward of the bed chamber soon made all fast ; 
hooked up the tables, screwed up the port, made a 
barricade of the luggage before my sofa, confiscated 
one chair and made a chevaux-de-frise of the other, 
and left us all prostrate at the altar of the Tritons. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 15 

However, it is not to be supposed that we were so 
wanting to ourselves as to be absent from table, and 
the ludicrous scenes of the dining room abundantly 
compensated us for the effort. The guards prevented 
an escapade of the dishes, but not necessarily of 
their contents. The reckless wight who took soup 
took a good deal of it; my vis-a-vis. ate his duck, 
but pocketed the olives: somersaults were in fashion, 
and the waiters scrambled about, distributing the 
viands impartially between the guests and the floor. 
A sudden lurch made a cataract of the china upon 
the sideboard, while the same blow sent the dessert 
flying about the kitchen floor. Nobody slept at 
night ; some of the waves broke over our port, fifty 
feet above water level, and washed the boats at the 
davits. The only sight visible through the darkness 
was the window, like the great eye of Neptune, now 
staring at us from above, now peering at us from 
below. Among the rest of the unearthly noises of 
the night, was the flapping of canvas, as the sailors 
struggled to set the main topsail to steady the ship. 
The struggle was short, and the sail went by the 
board, with a report like the crack of artillery. The 
tattered remnants still cling to the heavy yard. 

With all this, there was neither storm nor danger, 
but an experience which one would not miss, as a 
part of the legitimate routine of seagoing. Our 
cabin is a cozy home of our own, so arranged that i£ 
becomes at pleasure one room or two; my own 
domain especially comfortable, as, with my friends 



16 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

usual kind consideration for my comfort, I am be- 
stowed where I am "rocked in the cradle of the 
deep," instead of playing at see-saw with my head 
and feet. We are especially favored with good ven- 
tilation, as, besides the port-hole, we have a window 
communicating through the deck with the outer air, 
and also with a Tartarus of a fire-hole in the abyss 
below. It is curious to watch at night the weird 
effect of the grimy demon of those profound depths, 
as he stirs the raging fires, and eminently suggestive 
also of the potentialities hanging on his watchfulness. 

On Monday and Tuesday we had a heavy sea, but 
we have crossed the gale, and are out of the rolling 
forties. Notwithstanding the roll, it has been de- 
lightful on deck, and we cannot sufficiently con- 
gratulate ourselves that we are established in such a 
stately palace of motion, and can enjoy the rough 
sea without being driven below by the waves. 

It rains to-day, and we have taken refuge in whist. 
We have advanced many degrees towards the sun- 
rising, and it requires a fresh calculation every clay 
to follow home friends, God bless them, through 
home avocations. 

Another death occurred on board yesterday, — 
that of a woman travelling to England to die. Her 
husband and children are with her. Her disease was 
a hopelessly advanced cancer, and the sickness of the 
rough night induced a hemorrhage, which hastened 
her sufferings to a close. She is to be taken to land 
for burial. I do not know that there is any thing 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 17 

very terrible in the thought of being consigned to 
this vast sepulchre of the dead, where no foot of 
mammon may disturb the long repose** where the 
solemn requiem of wind and wave rings ever above 
the spot, marked only by the eye of Him who 
knows where to find His beloved when the sea shall 
give up its dead. 

July 30. The weather, rainy for some days, is 
making an effort at sunlight — the sea steady — but 
it is not a good day for the deck. 

The event of yesterday was a musical soiree, for 
the benefit of the band which has contributed so 
largely towards our enjoyment on board. It was 
difficult to remember that we were on shipboard, 
thousands of miles at sea. The grand saloon, a 
splendid well lighted parlor, filled with well dressed 
people, the charming band, the amateur volunteers, 
both gentlemen and ladies, differed in nothing — 
except, perhaps, in their superiority — from a similar 
scene in the parlor of a fashionable watering place ; 
while in the steady way of the great ship, there was 
nothing to remind us that we were ploughing the 
unstable waves. We had Italian music and ballads 
— some admirable performances upon the piano. A 
fine barytone gave us The Old Sexton, Eocked in 
the Cradle of the Deep, and Twenty Years Ago — 
the last mentioned going down straight into the 
depths of the heart. We had, in addition, some 
amusing feats of legerdemain and ventriloquism ; 
wound up with the Marseillaise, the Star Spangled 



18 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Banner, and Grod save the Queen, and went home 
near midnight, highly gratified. 

It is a matter of continual regret that the splendid 
ship, which we so much enjoy, should, in any respect, 
fail to deserve the suffrages of the travelling public. 
But, while in security, accommodations and pleasure 
it is inimitable, the table is unpardonably deficient. 
The viands are badly (not scantily) furnished, and 
worse cooked. It is a matter of comparatively little 
importance to me, but it is a pity that an establish- 
ment, otherwise so perfect, should fail in a point 
essential to general comfort and to the reputation 
of the vessel. However, I am willing to compound 
for its many advantages with the temporary discom- 
fort of the table ; and, undoubtedly, the mortifica- 
tion attendant upon the faults of the present trip will 
prevent their recurrence. We are to have races 
again this afternoon, and a dance this evening. 

July 31. Once more a delicious day — the air 
bland with the soft south wind, and the sea quiet as a 
lake. Made the first land a little past one, and I can 
no more realize that we are actually running down 
the coast of Ireland, than if I had been making only 
a trip up the Hudson — moreover, we have had no 
tedium at sea, to make us hail the sight of land with 
any enthusiasm for the land's sake. Having never 
enjoyed a more delightful week in my life, I am in 
no haste to urge it to a close, and in no humor to 
lose the intensity of present enjoyment in visions of 
anticipation. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 19 

Yesterday was the Captain's dinner, and, as my 
first experience of a public dinner, I shall not 
readily forget it. The dinner was a handsome one, 
wine plentifully bestowed, and after the cloth was 
removed came toasts and speeches. The Captain 
led off by proposing with appropriate speeches the 
Queen, and the American Nation. Nobody taking 
upon himself the representation of either personality, 
the toasts were drunk with acclamation, and then 
came Mr. R, briefly but happily proposing the Cap- 
tain. His speech was not only applauded, but after- 
wards warmly commended by the passengers. Capt. 
Paton's reply was very good, defining his position in 
a modest yet dignified manner, and taking the occa- 
sion to express the pain which the failure of his 
agents of supply in New York had caused him, in 
such a hearty earnest way, that every body felt there 
was nothing more to be said upon the subject. 

The Surgeon, the Purser and the first officer were 
then called out. The ladies made their acknowl- 
edgments by the mouth of some English gentleman 
Afterwards came other speeches and toasts, prolong- 
ing the affair a trifle beyond the limits of good taste, 
and concluding with the Captain's speech in behalf of 
Mrs. Paton. It was all quite exciting to me, and 
had, besides, the charm of novelty. 

The evening was spent in the ball room. I wish 
I could picture the scene to home eyes, by way of 
contrast to the commonly received ideas of even 
pleasant life on shipboard. Here was an elegant 



20 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

room, about sixty by thirty feet in extent, brilliantly 
lighted by chandeliers and gaily decorated shades, 
and adorned with banners, filled with gay dancers 
and a merry host of spectators, officers, waiters with 
trays of ices, &c, all moving about at perfect ease, 
and in utter oblivion of the unstable element upon 
which we were floating ; our single world probably 
the sole tenant of the horizon. We looked into each 
other's faces to exclaim "Can this be the sea?" 
Success to the stately ship, the wonder of the seas. 
We shall all leave her with real regret, and with 
kindly remembrances of her commander. I hear, 
at this moment, the merry shouts on deck. They are 
finishing the races of the trip with a grinning match. 
To-morrow night we expect to sleep on shore. If 
our tour should end here, I should be the happier, 
for the rest of my life, for the pleasure of the last 
fortnight. 

Aug. 1. One more entry at sea. We are running 
up St. George's Channel this morning, and have 
already passed Holyhead, the grand headland of 
North Wales. And now I feel, for the first time, 
the awe of treading the threshold of the Old World 
— that long desire of a lifetime. The very air we 
breathe is redolent of past ages — the soil we seek to 
tread rich in classic memories. We come to lay hold 
of tangible links in the chain that binds the Present 
to the immutable Past, and must, at every step, kin- 
dle a torch of remembrance, whose light shall shine 
amid the lengthening shadows of our lifelong path 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 21 

— an Aladdin's lamp, whose touch shall bring to 
light visions which put to shame the fairy dreams of 
Arabian lore. 



22 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER II. 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 

Liverpool — Chester — Eaton Hall — Bangor — Caernarvon — Llanberis — Dublin — 
Belfast — Giant's Causeway. 

Aug. 2. On shore at last. The great ship came 
to anchor yesterday about five o'clock, too late to 
cross the bar. A tug took off all the passengers 
who desired to land, among whom we were not: the 
prospect of a twenty miles' sail at night in an open 
steamer, not proving enticing. The band played 
Auld Lang Syne as the tug moved off, bearing 
away some whose share in this brief companionship 
will claim many pleasant remembrances. We re- 
mained on board, attended a dance, and came off 
this morning. 

The form, for it is nothing more, of examining 
the luggage occupied a considerable time, and we 
did not leave the ship until half-past ten o'clock. 
She gave us a gun as a parting salute, and we left 
the abode of a pleasant fortnight with some regret, 
even for the shores of Europe. 

I wonder what Yankeedom would say if its water- 
going journeys were to be performed in a steamer 
without seat or shelter ; yet that was the style of our 
first travel in the maternal country. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 28 

Liverpool is very unlike my preconceived idea of 
the great commercial city ; I had fancied it dirty, 
dingy, crowded and uninteresting. But my notions 
have been corrected — no very unusual occurrence. 
The solid masonry of the long miles of docks is in 
striking contrast to our dirty piers, and our landing 
upon the clean pavement of the wharf was as quiet 
as a walk in a country town. 

The Washington is an elegant hotel, just out .of 
St. George's Square. In the broad open place stands 
a pillar which serves as pedestal to a statue of the 
Duke of Wellington, and upon one side of the square 
stands St. George's Hall, considered a very elegant 
edifice. The smoke reduces all architecture , to a- 
common hue, but one is immediately impressed with 
the solidity of the structures. The street is very 
clean, but not a vehicle reminds us of its congeners 
in America. We have had a charming drive to 
Prince's Park, and a walk in the private gardens, a 
beautiful extent of ornamental gardening. We have 
been to St. George's Hall, a fine building, one of 
whose beauties is the style of column, consisting of 
a kind of brown variegated marble, finished in tall 
shafts of exquisite polish, with Corinthian capitals. 
The concert room is very handsome, but its size 
struck me as very small for such a purpose, in so 
large a city. 

Aug. 8. I feel how baldly meagre must be any 
attempt to describe the pleasure of a day at Chester, 
and yet to pass it over would be to omit a day of 



24 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

sight-seeing than which we can have no other more 
enjoyable. 

We left Liverpool about noon, crossing to Birken- 
head, and came by rail to Chester, one hour's dis- 
tance. Only one hour from this commercial depot 
of the modern world to the shades of Julius Caesar ! 

This ancient city is surrounded by a perfect wall, 
whose date runs back to its occupation by the Ro- 
mans, A. D. 61. The top of the wall is flagged and 
guarded by a battlement of solid masonry, making 
a beautiful promenade entirely around the old city. 
It crosses the streets by bridges or archways, called 
gates, which give names to various streets, such as 
East.,Gate Street, Water Grate Street, &c. Flights 
of steps descend to the footways at each crossing. 
The whole structure shows great care, both of pres- 
ervation and restoration. 

There are several towers flanking the angles of 
the wall. From one of these — the Phenix Tower, 
King Charles the First witnessed the defeat of his 
army upon Rowton Moor. The upper story of the 
tower is improved, as the Yankees say, as a museum 
of antique relics of the city itself, and contains, be- 
sides, sundry curiosities from foreign lands. The 
lower floor, where are vended prints of Chester and 
its celebrities, was once a Roman council chamber. 

Within the castle, now occupied as barracks, is a 
portion of wall built by Caesar. At the foot of this 
wall, and elsewhere throughout the city, have been 
exhumed innumerable Roman antiquities ; and at 



. WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 25 

the present moment an excavation is going on in 
Bridge Street, where the foundations of an immense 
temple are exposed, supposed by antiquarians to 
have been a temple to Diana. . The foundations and 
portions of the massive pillars are plainly visible, at 
a slight distance below the level of the street. 

In a cellar, immediately adjoining, is a Roman 
bath, in perfect preservation, hewn out of solid rock, 
and still kept partially filled by some concealed 
spring or conduit below. Close by is a hypocaust, 
or large furnace, also hewn in arches from the solid 
rock, for the purpose of heating a sudatorium or 
sweating room above. 

The wonder is, not so much that these things 
should have been established upon the island so long 
ago, but that, through all the upheavals of all the 
centuries, they should have been permitted to 
remain, the unquestionable, unchanged tokens of 
the old Roman inhabitation. 

The entire effect of the town is a translation of 
sympathy and almost of individuality to the remote 
past, with a sense of the actuality of History, as 
opposed to the reality of Fiction. The streets them- 
selves close the eyes of one's perceptions to the nine- 
teenth century ; and, peering through the mists of the 
ages, we dimly discern the daily life of the men and 
women who formed the people, hundreds of years 
ago. Of those times, History records the public acts 
of the great lights of the nations ; but here we see the 
very dwellings where burned the rushlights of the 



26 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

multitude — the narrow ways which their feet have 
trodden — the very altars where they worshipped — 
the very burial places where they were laid to 
rest. 

Upon one old house — the only one which escaped 
the plague — is inscribed "God's providence is mine 
inheritance ;" upon another in the same street are 
quaint carvings representing scripture scenes. Hard 
bv, diving through a narrow entrance to a small 

o I CD O 

square court, we find the Derby House, the palace of 
the Stanleys. We were shown into the dining hall, 
now used as the shop of a mechanic, but retaining 
the same raftered roof and wainscoted wall as when 
nobility banqueted within its narrow limits. The 
same iron studded door opened to us that swung 
upon its hinges to admit the scions of royalty ; and 
little plebeian children played upon the worn oaken 
staircase which led to the bower of the dames. 

Bishop Loyd's palace, belonging to the early part 
of the seventeenth century, is another curious relic 
of that which constituted magnificence in the days 
when the Puritans built their homes in our western 
forests. 

The remarkable feature of the streets is the Eows. 
The lower stories set directly upon the street, serve 
as shops, and above, the entire front of the second 
story is cut away, forming a continuous arcade, 
within which are arranged the shops of the town. 
Steps descend to the street at frequent intervals, 
while the dwellings are still above, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 27 

The great points of interest in Chester are two 
ancient churches — the Cathedral, or the Church of 
St. Oswald and St. Werburgh, and the Church of 
St. John the Baptist. The former was erected, 
mainly, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
upon a site once occupied by a temple of Apollo. 
The choir is used as a parish church, and cathedral 
service is performed here twice a day. The cloisters 
around the quadrangle were to me the most interest- 
ing part of the immense edifice, and perhaps the 
best place to get a definite idea of the great space 
occupied by the Abbey. 

Time is wearing away the massive mullions and 
stanchions of the arched windows, but the kindly 
ivy tenderly shadows the unsightly flaws, and con- 
verts the jagged outline into a thing of beauty. 
My fancy went back to the monks who paced these 
cloisters, four hundred years ago, and were laid, one 
by one, beneath our feet, and wondered if they found 
in this green retirement the peace which the human 
race has since ceased even to desire. 

The Church of St. John the Baptist is of still 
greater antiquity and interest. It was founded in 
A. D. 689, and the old chancel is still standing in ivy- 
clad ruin, with great trees thrusting their branches 
from out the arches of its windows. The carvings 
and statues of the ancient edifice, though fallen, are 
still preserved upon the spot, and are gradually incor- 
porated in the renovation of the later church, which 
is now in progress. 



28 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

This church, repaired thoroughly in 1581, is of a 
beautiful style of architecture — Norman rather than 
Gothic. The part used as a church is simply fitted 
up, and screened from the open aisles by a partition 
of rough boards. Upon entering, we found the 
vicar waiting in the chancel to perform a marriage 
ceremony. Mr. R addressed him, and he showed us 
the utmost courtesy, pointing out many things of 
interest connected with the ancient church. 

The environs of Chester are charming. The great 
attraction is Eaton Hall, the residence, or rather one 
of the estates, of the Marquis of Westminster, the 
largest landed proprietor in England. This estate is 
twelve miles in length ; but miles and statistics can 
give little idea of such a place. We obtained, in the 
town, tickets of entrance both to the house and gar- 
dens, and rolled away mile after mile, over a perfect 
road, winding through field and forest and park, all 
showing the most exquisite culture, and varied with 
careful attention to effect; and, at length, reached 
the magnificent lawn in front of the hall, dotted 
with stately trees, and stretching off in charming per- 
spective to the wooded background in the distance. 

The most respectful and respectable of butlers 
received us in the vestibule, and conducted us 
" through gallery fair and high arcade " to the show 
rooms of the mansion. The vestibule is lofty and 
elegant, and contains several pieces of statuary, and 
four suits of armor in eSigy^ belonging to his lord- 
ship's ancestors. The dining, breakfast, morning and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 29 

drawing rooms, the saloon and library, are all en 
suite, and each impresses one with a sense of magnifi- 
cence, hitherto beyond mj conception. The dining 
room windows look out upon a wonderful scene of 
garden beauty, the flowers being not only disposed 
with great taste in the form of the parterres, but the 
colors so strikingly arranged as produce the highest 
effect either of contrast or harmony. 

The walls of the saloon and drawing room are 
frescoed in Spanish scenes, sketched from nature by 
the Marchioness herself, and painted by Mr. Morris 
of Chester. There are many valuable paintings in 
the various rooms — two by Eubens, two by Guercino 
— besides the family portraits, busts, and other pieces 
of sculpture that adorn the halls. One long hall is 
lined with pictures of noted horses that have be- 
longed to the family. To judge from their number 
and beauty, the race of Le Gros Veneur has not yet 
lost the ancestral taste. 

In a box in a small vestibule is a huge pig of lead, 
wrought by Koman skill from British mines in the 
first century. The chapel of the hall is a perfect 
gem, but the library is the most splendid of all these 
apartments. It is one hundred and twenty feet long, 
lofty and elegant, containing, besides the organ and 
book cases, statues and curiosities too numerous and 
too interesting to be properly understood in many 
visits. A faultless Flora, by Wylie, and a bust of 
the late Marquis, by Chan trey, are the finest pieces of 
statuary. 



30 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Nor does this noble house disdain the work of 
homelier artists. Among the rare and curious ob- 
jects in the library stands a table, made with long 
and patient experiment by a mechanic of Chester, 
which is ingeniously wrought to show the grain of 
three hundred blocks of the different kinds of 
English wood. 

The gardens include long ranges of hot-houses, 
green-houses, graperies, walls of fruit, kitchen gar- 
dens, ornamental shrubberies, and artificial lakes, 
containing plants, trees and shrubs, from all coun- 
tries and climates. Among the smaller trees, the 
English and Irish yew were especially attractive. 

The view from the east front of the mansion, 
looking down the broad terraces, fille8 with exquisite 
flowers, interspersed with turfy banks and wide ave- 
nues, to the inlet of the Dee below ; bounded on 
either side by the graceful sweep of the bosky 
thicket of trees and shrubbeiy which shut out the 
park views beyond, is all enchanting as a dream of 
fairy land. 

Well might a house which can claim this beau- 
tiful domain as its ancient heritage be pardoned for 
the pride of birth. But this is only one of the 
estates of the Marquis, and he spends but three 
months of the year in this abode of wealth and art 
and beauty. 

A day at Chester alone, would repay one for 
crossing the Atlantic, and will enrich the memory 
with pleasure for a lifetime. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 31 

We visited the picturesque cemetery, and walked 
upon the ancient wall, and traversed the quaint 
Eows ; and found, every where, that strange min- 
gling of the shadows of the dusky Past with the 
sunshine of the nineteenth century, that constitutes 
such a charm for the dwellers in a land which has 
no antiquity beyond the memory of half a dozen 
generations. 

We left Chester with many a lingering look, and 
travelled through a most picturesque country to 
Bangor. The tide was down, and, stretching miles 
away, we saw the sands of Dee ; and as we went on, 
we watched 

" The cruel crawling hungry foam 
Come o'er the sands of Dee." 

where Mary went to 

" Call the cattle home, 
But never home came she." 

On this route we made our first acquaintance with 
castles. The Castle of Grwych rises among the hills 
of Wales as if it were the legitimate outgrowth of 
the soil. Conway Castle crowns the summit of a 
hill under which the railway passes. It is a ruin of 
great extent. The ivy-covered walls reached along 
the crest of the hill as far as we could see, on both 
sides of the railway, and must have enclosed a cir- 
cuit unusual even in the times of castles. 

The scenery of North Wales is surpassingly beau- 
tiful. It is a combination of charming fields, bor- 



32 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

dered every where by green hedgerows, and showing 
the most careful cultivation, with bold, bare masses 
of granite, towering high in solitary grandeur, some- 
times affording a roothold for a scant} 7 covering of 
grass, and sometimes lifting their heads in naked 
majesty to the beating of the eternal storms. 

At Bangor we found an inn near the railway 
station, nestled close at the foot of the hills, quaint 
in its old fashioned arrangements — the very type 
of an inn for such a locality, and a delightful sum- 
mer resort for those who would enjoy mountain 
excursions. 

There, on one of the loveliest days that ever 
smiled npon the earth, we took a wagonette, a Welsh 
horse and a Welsh driver, arid set out for a drive 
through a charming variety of scenery for Caernar- 
von Castle. 

The broad road, smooth as a parlor floor, bordered 
by walls topped with a hawthorn hedge, swept up and 
down the green waves of the fair country, with the 
Menai Strait in full view on the one hand, and on 
the other, the hills rising higher and higher to the 
lofty range of which great Snowdon is the topmost 
peak. Bowling swiftly along, with such uninter- 
rupted smoothness of motion, amid such a country, 
and inhaling the free, bracing mountain air, is in 
itself an intensity of enjoyment such as is rarely 
experienced. I never hope for such a day again. 

We drove into the little town of Caernarvon upon 
a holiday. There was a regatta on the strait ; Prince 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 33 

Arthur had visited the castle, and all Welshdom 
was abroad. 

The huge, rude walls of the castle rise from the 
water side, enclosing a not very extensive court. 
The walls are sound and massive as when they 
formed the stronghold of Edward, and the circuit of 
the court is still solidly complete. Of the several 
towers, the highest and best preserved is the Eagle 
Tower, in which Edward the Second was born. The 
innumerable steps are perfect to the top. Queen 
Eleanor's chamber is a small, chill, ■ uncouth apart- 
ment, with a huge fireplace occupying an entire side, 
lighted by one loop-hole, and flanked by two ante- 
rooms for the attendant guards. The poverty of 
modern womanhood is rare, that would not consider 
itself unhappily lodged in such quarters, even though 
they should bear the title of royalty. 

One cannot fail to be impressed with the chill dis- 
comfort which must have characterized noble life 
within the heavy walls of those dark, grim, feudal 
castles. It may have been all very well for knight 
and squire, but as for the dames, I am glad to have 
been born in the nineteenth century. 

The quaint old town of Caernarvon is utterly un- 
like any thing to be seen in the New World. One 
is here every where impressed with the enduring 
character of all structures. In the most remote of 
rural dwellings, you feel at once that the solid cot- 
tage walls have already sheltered many generations, 
and will shelter many more. 



34 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The Welsh cottages are extremely picturesque, 
built of stone, neatly whitewashed, and covered with 
ivy to the eaves. They are surrounded by pretty 
gardens, gay with flowers, among which the Fuchsia 
is conspicuous — here a tall, hardy shrub, growing as 
abundantly as our own lilac, its graceful twigs droop- 
ing with a weight of coral drops. The hedges are of 
hawthorn, and the banks covered with bluebell and a 
beautiful purple flower which the driver called cleat. 

We sped back from Caernarvon, with our won- 
derful Welsh horse, in the direction of the distant 
range of mountains, the country growing gradually 
wilder and higher, until we stopped at an inn on the 
borders of the beautiful Lake of Llanberis, at the foot 
of Llanberis Pass. The inn, covered with climbing 
flowers, bore the pretentious name of Peclarn Villa. 
Here we exchanged our equipage for another wagon- 
ette and a pair of ponies necessary to the ascent of 
the pass. 

Upon the opposite side of the lake are the vast 
slate quarries of Colonel Pennant, whose residence, 
Pennryhn Castle, we had passed upon the way from 
Chester. As the afternoon wore into evening, we 
saw troops of white-jacketed workmen whirling 
along the railway upon the bank, returning in hand- 
cars from their work to the habitable regions below. 
A little way up the pass stands Pedarn Castle, a 
picturesque ruin of a single tower, upon a little head- 
land projecting into the lake. Here is another large 
hotel for the accommodation of tourists. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 35 

Still the same smooth, carefully kept road, wound 
up the mountain way ; and, here and there, perched 
in the almost inaccessible nooks of the crags, were 
the same neat ivy-clad cottages. The gorge grew 
narrower, and the cliffs more nearly perpendicular ; 
but every where we could see sheep clinging to the 
steep sides, and browsing the scanty herbage ; tiny 
rills and larger brooks came brawling over the stony 
way by the roadside ; the bald storm-rent hills grew 
nearer, and cast their huge fragments at our feet; 
the defile narrowed, until 

" Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, 
Seemed nodding o'er the hollow way. 
As if an infant's touch could urge 
Their headlong passage down the verge." 

At the distance of five miles we reached the sum- 
mit of the pass, and looked down the pretty green 
valley of Gwinnant beyond. About nine miles far- 
ther on are Beth Gelert and Cuppel Curigg, but we 
were too late for a prolonged drive, or for the ascent 
of Snowdon. 

"We followed a little girl as guide up the side of 
the mountain, for a nearer view of the Cambrian 
monarch, but he had vailed his head in clouds. 
Mr. K. went on up the sharp ascent until we heard 
his voice over our heads, but old Snowdon refused 
to reveal himself, and the lengthening shadows 
warned us to return. 

We came down the pass, and took tea at the inn 
at the foot. Shades of Llewellyn ! what a rapacious 



36 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

crew make merchandise of the grand and the pictu- 
resque in this lovely land ! 

We returned along the shadowy lanes of the silent 
landscape to Bangor, with a bewildering sense of 
new enjoyment, and a panorama of wonderful beauty 
impressed upon the memory for all time. 

The appearance of the peasantry of the country 
through which we passed, was very pleasing. The 
hardy, smiling, rosy faces, at the doors of the cotta- 
ges, spoke unmistakably of health and content. A 
curious feature among them, is the style of begging. 
Sturdy, well-fed, well-dressed children sped after the 
carriage, patiently repeating their only English word, 
" ha' penny ;" their rosy, healthy, merry faces, con- 
trasting strangely with their demand. It was of no 
use to refuse — on they pattered, keeping up bravely 
with the horse, until a half penny tossed among the 
group, would institute a scramble which rendered 
further pursuit useless. I looked with envy upon 
the brown faces of the little rogues, and could not 
but admire the philosophy which pitched their 
demand upon so low a key, that they could not pos- 
sibly be disappointed in the amount bestowed. 

Aug. 5. As we left the pretty, quiet inn, at 
Bangor, we saw the little Prince Arthur, on his 
way to lunch at Castle Pennrhyn. He is a nice 
looking boy of thirteen, very like the pictures of his 
mother. 

We crossed the tubular bridge, vainly endeavoring 
to realize that it was the wonderful structure of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 37 

which we have read so much. It is only one among 
the countless things, whose grandeur we never realize 
at the moment of contact. Distance seems to be a 
peremptory element of appreciation, both in the 
physical and mental world. 

We crossed the island of Anglesea, which is much 
less picturesque than the main land, and took the 
steamer at Holyhead for Kingstown. The passage 
was rather rough, but accomplished in four hours. 
We had a live marchioness on board, with her son 
and attendants. The harbor at Kingstown is very 
fine, and the coast much bolder than I had supposed. 
The ride to Dublin, by rail, was less than half an 
hour, and, before dark, we found ourselves installed 
in pleasant rooms at Morrison's Hotel. We have a 
suite upon the ground floor, opposite Trinity College 
Gardens. 

I must not omit to speak of the perfection of 
travelling arrangements, so far as we have proceeded. 
The quiet, security, certainty and speed of the rail- 
ways, the comfort of the carriages, and the assured 
conviction that everything is coming out right, in 
regard to yourself and your luggage, constitute the 
perfection of travel. The railways cross the public 
roads, almost invariably, either by tunnel below, or 
by bridge above ; and when obliged to make the 
crossing at the same grade, stout gates of timber 
secure the track from the highway until the train has 
passed. Officials are, every where, conspicuously 
marked, and their quiet, respectful demeanor, as well 



38 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

as that of servants universally, constitutes a respec- 
tability of rank, worthy of imitation by their coun- 
terparts on this side the water. One yields an 
immediate respect to the scrupulous maintenance of 
position, as well in the lower orders of society as 
in the higher, which is never rendered to the univer- 
sal assumption of equality, whatever may be one's 
theory upon the subject. 

The quiet of the railways contrasts strongly with 
our own. The ringings and snortings are all lacking; 
the notice to the engineer is a small whistle worn 
upon the neck of the conductor ; there are no plat- 
forms to tempt careless passengers, and you are 
securely locked into the carriages between the sta- 
tions. The guard unlocks the door at each station 
where there is sufficient pause, and relocks it before 
starting. The charges, both of travel and service, 
are enormous, but, taking them for granted once for 
all, nothing can be more comfortable than the whole 
system. The cars are divided into three compart- 
ments, each containing two rows of seats placed 
vis-a-vis. The first class carriages are arranged with 
three arm chairs, luxuriously cushioned from top to 
bottom. The second class have undivided seats, 
cushioned with hair, with a narrow cushion for the 
shoulders, while the third class seats are simple 
benches. The difference in price is very consider- 
able. 

Aug. 6. The change from an English terminus 
to an Irish one is striking. Instead of the sleek 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 39 

horses, and the precise liveried coachmen, awaiting 
your orders in respectful silence, or in the well-bred 
undertone which characterizes English servants, we 
found a tangled crowd of ragged drivers, tagging at 
their lean horses, and vociferating at the top of their 
voices; a tattered coat seeming to form no bar to 
respectability. And then the vehicles ! It is worth 
while to ride once, and only once, in a jaunting car. 
In appearance it bears a strong resemblance to a 
resuscitated fossil of the age when the bird began to 
struggle with the reptilian quadruped, the Pterodac- 
tyl, for instance. It is a two-wheeled vehicle for one 
horse ; the body formed of a long narrow box, cov- 
ered with a cushion and running longitudinally. On 
each side of this spine runs a narrow seat, for two or 
more persons, sitting back to back ; and from the 
seat depends a step by a hinge, precisely like the 
open cover of a box. These, when unoccupied, are 
turned back over the seat. If there be but one pas- 
senger, the driver sits upon the opposite side, to trim 
the craft ; but if it be properly balanced, he occupies 
a high seat in front. The whole affair has a most 
ludicrous, disreputable effect; and to see these 
machines scouring the country, filled with men, 
women, and children, looks, to the unpractised eye, 
as if the world were holding high carnival, and 
every body were out on a masquerade. The sitter is 
exposed to the mud, to contact, and to the elements ; 
and if one is not fortunate enough to be supplied 
with shawl or blanket for the feet, the position is 



40 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

eminently favorable to the display of crinoline. The 
carriage affords an excellent view of the country, 
but the lateral, insecure motion is very fatiguing. 

We have been exploring this handsome town. 
Except that it is not rectangular, it has much 
the effect of Philadelphia, although more elegant. 
We have been to some of the gay shops, have 
visited St. Patrick's Cathedral, and the Castle, and 
have driven about Phenix Park, and the princi- 
pal streets. The moist climate has shed its dewy 
blessings upon us, in every form, up to a pouring 
rain ; and we have performed our explorations, like 
our neighbors, in a jaunting car — amusing ourselves 
with speculations as to the probable effect of such 
an apparition in the Central Park or in Delaware 

Avenue. 

St. Patrick's, the church of Dean Swift, is a fine 
old cathedral, now undergoing the process of repair, 
through the liberality of a wealthy brewer, of Dub- 
lin, named Guinness, who devoted forty thousand 
pounds to the work. We saw the Dean's old pulpit, 
and his tomb, and that also of Stella — "only a 
woman's " grave. A ragged jacket seems to be the 
most readily recognized coat of arms in this shiftless 
land. The intelligent guide, who accompanied us 
through the cathedral, and translated Latin inscrip- 
tions, was ragged ; and the crowd of ragged beggars, 
men, women, and children, that throng the public 
entrances and thoroughfares, was painful to Ameri- 
can eyes. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 41 

The chapel in Dublin Castle, the residence of the 
Lord Lieutenant, is very fine. It is adorned with 
the armorial bearings of the Lords Lieutenant, from 
the eleventh century, carved in Irish oak. Nothing 
can be more beautiful of its kind. The chapel is 
very ancient, and a part of the original window still 
remains, much more beautiful than its modern sup- 
plement. The present vicegerent, Lord Carlisle, in 
renovating the chapel, has, with an unaccountable 
taste, sustituted a handsome white stone pulpit for 
the old dark oaken one. It contrasts harshly with 
the rich, dark uniformity of the rest of the building. 
The State apartments of the Castle are not at all 
magnificent, but the private rooms wear a cosy, 
habitable air, and look out upon pleasant gardens. 

Phenix Park is a handsome drive, and contains, 
among other things, a noticeable monument to the 
Duke of Wellington. Sackville Street, adorned 
with a statue of Nelson, is a splendid street. The 
city abounds 'in handsome buildings. The river, 
which bears the pretty name of Anna Liffey, runs 
through the middle of the city, bordered by walls 
and crossed by bridges of superb masonry. 

This masonry of the Old World is, to me, a source 
of continual admiration. From the structure of a 
palace to the wall by the roadside in some far away 
rural nook, each is perfect of its kind, and evidentty 
built to last. The impression which every thing 
leaves upon the mind is that of enduring, or rather 
perduring stability. A transcript, perhaps, of the 



42 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

noble constitution, which, ont of all the changes and 
chances of ages, has sifted the elements of stability, 
and can afford to await the slow growth of perfection 
— that plant of no mushroom birth — which must 
develop, like the acorn, by slow and patient growth, 
into the fulness of its grandeur. 

Aug. 8. At Belfast, the Yankeedom of Ireland, 
By way of keeping a prudent resolution, formed 
before leaving home, to husband my exertions for 
extraordinary occasions, I have seen nothing of Bel- 
fast, except the pretty green gardens directly before 
the windows of our pleasant rooms. I propose to 
content myself with my present knowledge of man- 
ufactures and busy streets, and reserve my limited 
strength for that which belongs distinctively to the 
Old World. I should judge that this part of Ireland 
possesses more Scotch than Irish features, especially 
as regards its industrial characteristics. 

Eeturned to Belfast, after a visit to the Giant's 
Causeway. The railway passes, by way of Antrim 
and Coleraine, to Port Kush, through a. trim, thrifty 
looking country; the fields carefully kept, and the 
cottages neat and precisely thatched. I confess that 
the air of tidiness which pervaded the whole region 
surprised me. I could fancy that the cottages were 
more picturesque as objects of the landscape, than 
comfortable as habitations ; but they had decidedly 
an advantage in appearance over any other Irish 
abodes, of the same class, that one sees at home. I 
had occasion to enter one of the neat, white, stone 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 43 

cottages near the Causeway, and the utter destitution 
of all that belongs to our idea of comfort, was 
depressing ; the geological specimens which I was 
taken to inspect, being almost the only moveables in 
the cabin. . 

At Port Rush, a small trading town upon the 
northern coast, we took a jaunting car for a drive of 
eight or nine miles, to the Causeway. The country 
is wild in the extreme. Bold, black headlands jut 
out into the broad ocean, and underneath them the 
waves have worn great caverns and arches. On one 
of the most projecting of these promontories, stand 
the ruins of Dunluce Castle, occupied as late as the 
sixteenth century. The Castle is upon an island, 
close to the main land, with which it is connected by 
a bridge, still standing. 

The road wound along the immediate coast, with a 
grand ocean view for about half the distance to the 
Causeway ; then struck off across the country, to a 
small thriving village, called Bush Mills, where 
commences the ascent to the great headland. Here 
began a line of guides, beggars, and pecPdlers of curi- 
osities, marvellous to behold. They lay in wait 
under the hedge, they lurked in the lanes ; the most 
innocent pedestrian became suddenly transformed, at 
your approach, into a merchant of canes, stones, or 
plumes ; or, more frequently, into a guide, possessed 
of invaluable information, and of recommendations 
from innumerable travellers. It frets one into a 
fever, that we cannot surrender ourselves for a 



44 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

moment to the influence of scenes which are the 
realization of lifelong dreams, without being dragged 
down by pitiful, perpetual mendicity. And, to one 
accustomed to see men and women earning their 
living by the sweat of their brow, it is unspeakably 
disgusting to see shoals of broad-shouldered, strong- 
armed people, hanging upon the steps of travellers, 
for the mere chance of a stray sixpence ; and, at 
every new beauty in the wonders of creation, to be 
met by a demand for a shilling. The rapacity of 
guides, drivers, and boatmen, is a matter of estab- 
lished prestige, and unavoidable ; but that is the 
utmost limit of American patience, and it is intense- 
ly provoking to find daguerreotyped into such a 
scene as the Giant's Causeway, the unfailing beggar. 
The termination of the land route, is a hotel at the 
summit of the Causeway, whence a steep footpath 
leads down to the sea ; for it is only by rowing out 
to a considerable distance into the ocean, that we can 
obtain a view of this wonder of Nature. 

Here we embarked, with a guide, in a boat manned 
by five oarsmen. The first visit was to the caves, 
for which the day was unusually propitious. A 
fresh, strong breeze came in from the broad ocean, 
and helped to fan the enthusiasm with which we rode 
out upon the great waves into the grandeur of this 
storm-worn coast. 

We entered first the smaller cavern of Port Coon ; 
no soft limestone cave, worn out by the incessant 
"war of wave and rock," but a solid vault, arched 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 45 

by the upheaval of the foundations of the everlast- 
ing hills. The fine, clean, compact grain of the 
primitive rock, brings up with it from the fiery 
bowels of the earth an indubitable record of its ori- 
gin. And what imagination can picture the convul- 
sion which shot upward these molten masses to 
harden in black caverns and majestic hills. The 
depth of this cave, if I rightly remember, is three 
hundred feet — the height of the arch about sixty ; 
and the clear, glittering water disclosed, at the depth 
of sixteen feet, innumerable blocks of the same 
smooth black mass as walled the sides. 

The mighty surge, that forever sweeps these depths, 
leaves neither weed nor leaf upon these sharp crags, 
save where, here and there, high up in the vault, a 
solitary fern waves defiance to the longing eye. 

The grand cavern of Dunkerry defies description. 
It stretches away six hundred feet into the face of the 
rock. On one side jut out the square, sharp masses 
of trapdyke, and on the other rise the grand basaltic 
columns of the Causeway, blending in grotesque 
fusion, at an immense height, in the vault above. 
Here is still the same strangely clear, glittering 
depth of water, paved underneath with huge frag- 
ments of the combined formation above; and a 
shout rings back from the cavernous deep, with a 
boom that makes one long to hear the roar when a 
tempest lashes the ocean into these subterranean 
recesses. We rode out again with a fresh sense of 
awe, into the sunlight, over the glorious waves, to 



46 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the front of the headland, where stand the stately 
wonderful columns, which the pictures call the 
Giant's Causeway. 

The formation is triple — trap, red sandstone, and 
basalt ; the columnar structure is usually vertical, 
but sometimes horizontal. It is necessarily viewed 
at a great distance, and it must require long practice 
to appreciate the real height. Different spots upon 
the cliffs are variously named, from real or fancied 
resemblances ; such as The Devil's Organ, The 
Chimney, The Pulpit, The Devil's Thumb, The 
Unshaved Jew, &c. Off what is called the Spanish 
headland, was wrecked the flag-ship of the Spanish 
Armada, having mistaken that point for the Castle 
of Dunluce. A wild, inhospitable shore, indeed, 
must this prove to the hapless vessel, driven before a 
northern gale. 

But grand as is the aspect of the columnar head- 
land, the Causeway itself, over which, even not being 
giants, we may walk, is the object of more curious 
remark. Here stand the huge up-forced masses, 
closely fitted to each other, yet perfectly distinct, of 
various shapes, square, rhomboidal, pentagonal, hex- 
agonal ; each side sharp and clear as if hewn and 
polished by human hands, Not in solid column, 
but in joints of various lengths ; always fitting upon 
each other with a convex and a concave surface, 
easily detached by the blow of a hammer. And as 
we tread the majestic mosaic, the same thought is 
ever present : what mighty throes must have torn 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 4Y 

the bowels of the ancient earth, to have forced these 
fiery streams to the upper air. Nor can we fail to 
read here the record inscribed by the finger of the 
eternal God, of the unity of His laws, which govern 
alike the spheres and the dew drop. 

The path of our return lay sharply up the breezy 
verge of the cliff, swept by the strong, inspiriting 
breath of the ocean ; the steep wayside plentifully 
sprinkled with purple gorse, and bluebells, and — 
beggars. 

After sundry sound and salutary admonitions 
from one of my indignant companions to the greedy, 
but good-natured crew, we set out upon our home- 
ward way, in a drizzling rain, and reached Port 
Rush too late and too tired for a return to Belfast. 
The little town commands a beautiful view of the 
wide sweep of the bay, bounded by the Causeway, 
whose prominent features are distinctly visible, 
frowning in solemn grandeur upon the storm-beaten 
coast. We took up comfortable quarters at the 
wild little port. I have no where felt such a reality 
of remoteness from the Western World, as in this 
distant outlook towards the icy seas, from the 
extremity of Northern Ireland. 



48 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER III. 

SCOTLAND. 

Glasgow — The Clyde — Loch Long — Loch Lomond — Ben Lomond — Loch 
Katrine — Loch Achray — Stirling — Edinburgh — Abbottsford — Melrose — 
Dryburgh. 

Glasgow, in bed. An inglorious termination to 
so much bewildering enjoyment. The climb at the 
Causeway, and a slight fall received while embark- 
ing on board the steamer from Belfast to Glasgow, 
have combined to remind me of my physical disa- 
bilities, and I am doing penance, in consequence. I 
take for granted, on the authority of my friends, 
that Glasgow is a beautiful city, containing a fine 
cathedral, the only one spared by the Eeformation. 
The stately arches, once resonant with ave and pater 
noster, now ring to the music of the precentor, and 
the prayers of the Kirk. 

I have been also obliged to deny myself the 
pleasure which my friends are enjoying, of a trip to 
Ayr, the birth-place of Burns, and to summon all 
my strength for that El Dorado of my lifelong ro- 
mance, Loch Katrine and the Trosachs. 

Aug. 11. Since writing the above, have grown 
better, and by way of amusement, have taken an 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 49 

open carriage and driven about this beautiful city, 
up and down its steep streets, through the delightful 
Park; and have visited the cathedral. I think I 
have never seen so beautiful a city. The more ele- 
gant residences are upon a high elevation above the 
old city, with gardens in front which we should call 
small parks. The various rows are called Crescents, 
although to many of them the crescent shape is 
lacking. The West End Park is a very fine one, the 
very ideal of an available park for such a town. Its 
natural position admits of great variety of hill, val- 
ley, plain and stream, and art has improved it to the 
utmost. 

I have heard of moss grown streets, but I never 
saw them before. Up some of these steep streets 
the moss covers the entire pavement, and some of 
the terraces are reached by flights of stone steps. 
The streets are scrupulously clean, beautifully paved, 
and abound in statues. A tall column, with a statue 
of Sir Walter Scott, stands in a small park, in front 
of our hotel, another to Sir John Moore, and a third 
'to Watt. An equestrian statue of Queen Victoria, 
and one of the Duke of Wellington, embellish the 
neighboring square. 

Glasgow abounds in handsome churches, among 
which the cathedral is, of course, the most worthy of 
notice. It is, indeed, of remarkable beauty. The 
Choir, with the Lady Chapel, and Chapter House, 
dates back to A. D. 1170 ; the nave is later. The 
crypts are the most noticeable part of the edifice, and 



50 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

are said to be the finest in Europe. Crypts usually 
suggest the idea of cellar, or place of provisions; 
these, on the contrary, are nearly level with the 
ground, and are finished with the care and ornamen- 
tation of a church. One of them in particular, 
dating, I think, from 1480, by Archbishop Blackader, 
is more beautiful than most of our churches. These 
crypts have all been undoubtedly used as places of 
worship. They are now filled with memorial tablets, 
some of very recent date, although interments in the 
vaults have ceased. Among the monuments, one 
very beautiful bronze erection is to an officer, who 
fell in the recent difficulties with China, and another 
marks the resting place of Edward Irving. The 
stained windows are all memorial. Near the centre 
of the crypts, under the present pulpit, is a small 
elaborate chapel, which, until* recently, contained the 
shrine of St. Mungo, an ancient patron saint of the 
cathedral. Near by, are two sarcophagi, containing 
the remains of some forgotten dignitaries, who need 
not to have taken such pains with a resting-place, 
which should long outlast the memory of its occu- 
pants. The whole edifice is in perfect preservation, 
as if it were but a quarter of a century old, and bids 
fair to last a thousand years longer. 

The grounds around the cathedral are filled with 
monumental slabs, and immediately beyond lies the 
Necropolis, upon a high hill overlooking the city ; a 
cemetery surpassing any thing of the kind within my 
knowledge. A colossal statue of the great Scottish 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 51 

reformer, John Knox, crowns the eminence, standing 
upon a tall pillar, which serves as pedestal. His 
face and attitude, as he looks down upon the busy 
city, could never be mistaken by one who had either 
seen his pictures, or learned his history. 

Aug 12. In leaving Glasgow for the Highlands, 
we eschewed railways, and sailed down the busy 
Clyde, lined, for long miles, with marine fabrications 
in various stages of progress ; constructions both for 
peace and war, and suggestive in the present position 
of affairs, of sundry possibilities as to the wherea- 
bouts of their debut into active service. The adver- 
tisement of a Clyde-built ship, will have a new set 
of associations for me in future. About ten miles 
from Glasgow we passed a beautiful estate, the seat 
of Lord Blantyre. Dumbarton Castle, the scene of 
much romantic interest and historic note, the great 
Scottish stronghold, and the place where Wallace 
was betrayed to the English, stands in ruins upon a 
bold, bare promontory ; the ivied walls so mingling 
with the native rock, that they are not every where 
easy to distinguish. A modern building at the base 
of the old fortification, still serves as a fort for a gar- 
rison. The commandant chanced to come on board 
the steamer, and gave us, very courteously, much 
information in regard to the interesting localities of 
the shore. Within the space enclosed by the old 
ramparts, stands a tall monument to the memory of 
Henry Bell, master of the first steamer oh the Clyde. 
The pillar and its position were suggestive. Here 



52 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

stand the decaying mementoes of mighty works, 
which were the exponent of force ; which represent 
no element of the human character, save valorous 
attack and stubborn resistance. And, little by little, 
even their memory fades into the dim distance, 
fanned into occasional freshness by the pen of the 
poet, or the brush of the painter. And long ere these 
remaining walls shall have crumbled into dust, little 
trace of the histories which made them famous will 
remain, save in the lore of the antiquary or the 
poet. But upon, and far above the type of mere 
domination, rises a memorial of the renovated human- 
ity, which seeks, as the end of its art, the benefit of the 
universal race ; which binds in one common interest 
the whole brotherhood of man. No crumbling mon- 
ument can bear away with it into oblivion the 
memory of such an invention, for it has taken the 
wings of the morning, and dwells in the uttermost 
parts of the sea. 

Another picturesque ruin stands upon the same 
side of the Clyde, Dumbuek Castle, and, as a fitting 
contrast, upon the opposite side beyond, are the 
beautiful grounds of Lord Glasgow. There are many 
charming places upon the Clyde, villas and villages, 
places of summer resort for the inhabitants of Glas- 
gow. Out of the Clyde, we turned into Loch Long, 
aptly named, a long reach of water, running many 
miles into the country, and almost meeting Loch Lo- 
mond. A small offshoot of its waters opens out to the 
westward, named Loch Goil, upon which, at a little 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 53 

distance from the entrance, stand the rains of Ullin's 
Castle, remembered now only as the home of Lord 
Ullin's Daughter. 

The country grew wilder, and the mountains more 
bare, as we advanced. One of the highest peaks, 
Ben Arthur, upon the seaward side of Loch Long, 
is named the Cobbler. Upon the summit crouches 
a figure in precisely the attitude of a cobbler, at his 
bench. Opposite the votary of St. Crispin, and in 
vast disproportion, sits his wife, represented by a 
gigantic head covered with a hood. It is more than 
possible that the poor fellow may have been dwarfed 
by his vocation ; but what he lacks in size is amply 
compensated by his conspicuous position. In all the 
windings of all the lochs, the Cobbler is sure to pre- 
sent himself in the most obtrusive manner. 

At the head of the loch, lies Arrochar, the landing 
for Loch Lomond ; and thence we drove by coach a 
few miles over a sweet, lone, bowery road, to Tarbet, 
near the head of Loch Lomond. Like all the land- 
ings on the lakes, it is beautiful ; but its beauty has 
more the charm of cultivation than the native pictu- 
resqueness of its opposite neighbors. 

The places upon the lake of which I speak, are 
represented by one dwelling, the hotel. Whether 
the name applies to the house only, I do not know; 
perhaps other dwellings, concealed by the woods, 
may go to make up a proper village. 

We took for granted the hole in the rock, down 
which Kob Roy is said to have let his unlucky pris- 



54 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

oners, while he made advantageous terms for himself; 
and steamed down to the eastern shore, to one of the 
sweetest nooks to be found by tourist in any land, 
Rowardennan. The hotel lies at the foot of Ben 
Lomond ; a neat, quiet house, kept by a canny Scot 
named Andrew Blair, a shrewd, good old man, 
whose locks had whitened in this tranquil home ; 
but who had learned the language of one distant 
land, even the Eternal City, towards which he is 
travelling. His stalwart son seemed ready to take 
up the same restful life. And, indeed, it did not 
seem difficult to lay down the fever of life at the 
foot of that solemn mountain, by the calm waters of 
that tranquil lake. We were too late to obtain 
ponies for the ascent of the mountain, so the young 
gentlemen temporarily attached to our party, went 
up on foot, and we of the elders strolled about 
among the heathery hillocks, and betook ourselves 
to an early rest, for the early waking on the morrow. 

Aug. 13. The morning dawned upon the love- 
liest day I ever knew. We were wakened at four 
o'clock, and at five were in the saddle. We had 
three stout Highland ponies, and a guide. 

The grand old mountain looked brown and bare, 
but very smooth and accessible ; and was far from 
appearing at the distance of nearly six, miles, which 
is his reputed distance by the pathway. He is three 
thousand one hundred and ninety feet above the 
level of the sea. 

The atmosphere was pure ether, a bespoken day, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 55 

sweet, and mild, and still ; and " right up Ben Lo- 
mond " did we press for a mile or two, before the sun 
burst over the hills, and completed the glory of the 
day. Wot a breath of mist clung to ■ the mountain, 
nor dimmed the charming views, gradually disclosed 
as we ascended. The path grew steeper and more 
stony, and the smooth face of the mountain opened 
in craggy furrows ; and still each new turn of the 
winding way brought to light some new scene of 
grandeur or beauty. But there came a point of 
climbing which left little leisure for gazing. 'There 
was nothing for it, but to take the mountain by 
storm, and at a sharper angle than I had ever seen 
accomplished by quadruped before. 

One of my companions becoming much exhausted 
by the continuous fatigue of the ascent, the party 
lingered behind to rest, and I rode on, a mile or two 
in advance, exercising great faith in the path and the 
pony ; when, as we struggled up the last straight 
acclivity, the pony, evidently trained to the spot, 
rounded the shoulder of the mountain, and stood 
still, upon a verge that chilled my blood, and hushed 
my breath. 

Just at my feet, struck down a sheer depth of at 
least three hundred fathoms. In the valley at the 
bottom, lay the Forth, twined like a silver band 
among the emerald meadows and the purple moors. 
Beyond the nearer peaks, as it seemed but a stone's 
throw, slept Loch Ard ; and among the countless 
hills, shone little lakes, like crystal pools. On 



56 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the other side, I seemed to overhang the little green 
spot of Eowardennan, and as for my companions, 
the path was far too precipitons to catch even a 
glimpse of them. I never felt before the deadly 
awe of ntter solitude. The lonely grandeur of the 
scene grew too oppressive, and I gazed up the slender 
line which marked the path to the solitary summit, 
with a nervous shiver which I strove in vain to quell. 
I could see plainly that there was not a foot of dan- 
ger upon the way, but reason was not, just then, in 
the ascendant ; and the welcome sight of horse and 
horseman appearing above the rocky shelf, sent the 
blood to my heart, with a revulsion which nearly 
deprived me of the little strength which the terror 
of that scene of awe had left me. 

However, we reached the summit in safety. In- 
deed, there is no part of the ascent at all perilous ; 
it is only toilsome ; and even in that respect, I pre- 
sume, it compares favorably with most other moun- 
tain excursions. For a good pedestrian, walking is 
easier than riding. The bridle path is narrow, stony 
and tortuous, as if it followed the bed which wintry 
torrents have worn deep below the surrounding 
surface. 

The top of the mountain is a bare, wind-swept 
plateau of a few yards in extent, but it is the point 
of vision for such an amphitheatre as I have no 
power to describe. The vast peaks crowded each 
other, far and near ; their huge sides unshadowed by 
tree or shrub ; Pelion upon Ossa ; the brain ached 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 57 

with the mighty thought of Creation. At the foot, 
slept the purple bosom of Loch Lomond, studded 
with myriad islands, and fringed with woody head- 
lands. Here and there, between the bristling peaks, 
glittered bright lochs ; Edinburgh lay in the distance, 
and the Clyde spread its broad waters to the sun. 
The silver mists of morning rolled up the sides of 
the distant hills, giving a softened charm to the 
landscape, but not a shade dimmed the near vision. 
Language may recall, but can never express the 
emotions of that morning. 

The descent, after the first ruggedness was past, 
was far easier than the climb. The eye rested, with- 
out effort, upon the constantly varying scene, and 
pictured it to the memory forever. And, as I rode 
down into the sheltered valley, where the heather 
was glowing in the soft light of an October sun, and 
the Loch lay like a breathless mirror, reflecting the 
feathery banks and the mighty hills, and the solemn 
mountain lifted its bald head to the blue heaven, the 
intense beauty of the earth fell like a hush upon 
my heart, and Nature seemed to have gathered all 
the weary children of care to her quiet bosom, and 
to have soothed them to the rest of peace and love. 

The excitement of the morning was too great for 
any indoor rest, and we strayed along the quiet paths 
at the foot of the mountain, and sat upon the shel- 
tered banks, and listened to the whisper of the 
ripples upon the white pebbles of the beach, and 
drank in the reality of our enjoyment, until the 

5 



58 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

arrival of the little steamer, which was to take us to 
Inversnaid, a bewitching spot, five miles farther up 
the lake. Here, a wild mountain cataract comes 
foaming and brawling down to the lake. 

At Inversnaid we mounted a vehicle which has 
the effect of being a coach, all top. The seats are 
open — so high that a ladder is necessary to reach 
them, the luggage being bestowed in a cavernous 
recess beneath. It is an admirable contrivance where 
the great object to be gained is a good outlook. We 
wound up the steep, but smooth and shady road, 
and rolled swiftly through a beautiful glen, beside a 
pretty lake, both glen and lake being named Arklee. 
Upon the left we passed a low stone dwelling, which 
is remarkable as the birth-place of Helen McGregor. 
The drive was short, and we presently descended to 
Loch Katrine, the fairy cup that holds a magic 
draught of inspiration. Even as I write, I can 
scarcely convince myself that I have realized my 
lifelong romance, and that Loch Katrine has left its 
abode in my imagination for one in my memory. 

It is a small, but exquisite lake ; the steamer 
makes its entire circuit, and lands at the foot of the 
Trosachs. No prose description, even though it 
were a surveyor's chart, can give a more accurate 
picture of the scenery, than does the poem. I was 
surprised and charmed to find the familiar epithets 
not only beautiful, but scrupulously true. Ben- 
venue, Ben A'an, Ben Ledi, all- the points of which 
we read, are portrayed with such fidelity to Nature, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 59 

that the eye catches them in a moment, and recog- 
nizes them as old acquaintances. 

We passed Ellen's Isle, landed, and drove through 
the Trosachs to a beautiful hotel on the margin of 
Loch Achray. This hotel bears the euphonious title 
of Ardcheanochrochan. We were shown to dinner 
in a rustic hall, covered with " withered heath and 
rushes dry," 

" While all around, the walls to grace, 
Hung trophies of the fight or chase." 

After dinner, we drove back, and took a small 
boat and oarsman ; visited Ellen's Isle ; saw Coir- 
nan-uriskiu, the pass of Beal'nambo, the pass of the 
battle of Beal an' Duine, Eoderic's Watch Tower, 
and many a spot, already familiar as household 
words. We lingered while 

u Eve, with western shadows long, 
Floated on Katrine, bright and strong;" 

stumbled up the clambering road, among the tangled 
trees and shrubs, which led to the spot on the tiny 
islet where once stood a lodge, fashioned after the 
description of the poet. The rustic edifice was 
destroyed by the carelessness of some visitor, who 
threw a lighted cigar among the brushy thicket. In 
describing the Goblin's Cave, our rower said he 
believed there were some of the Goblins still remain- 
ing there, and, putting his hands to his mouth, he 
shouted until the echoes verified their goblin origin. 
The man was a McGregor, who not only knew the 



60 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Lady of the Lake by heart, but felt all its witchery. 
" The shades of eve came slowly down," as we re- 
traced our steps, almost giddy with pleasure. 

Loch Achray, " so lone a lake, so sweet a strand," 
lies before the door of the hotel, and winding paths 
invite to hidden beauties. The foxglove, the hare- 
bell, the heath, the broom, are all here, and all classic. 
It has been the day of days. 

Aug. 14. We strolled about the mountain paths 
until noon, then took a carriage for Callender. We 
passed the bridge of Turk ; along the lovely lake of 
Yennachar, to Coilantogle ford ; by Bochastle heath ; 
along the Teith ; past the ruins of the bannered 
towers of Doune ; near the ruined Cathedral, which 
marks the spot where Jessie, the flower of Dumblane, 
once blossomed; and followed the path of King 
James straight to Stirling. Dumferline looked 
strange upon a guide-board, but there it was. 

Stirling was a place of intense interest. We drove 
at once to the Castle, and the same flinty street 
echoed to the clatter of the toiling hoofs, as when 

" Slowly down the deep descent, 
Fair Scotland's King and nobles went," 

in days whose every interest is fast passing into 
oblivion. The ancient Castle had its origin in times 
whereto the memory of man runneth not. Its 
towers echoed the sports, and witnessed the vows of 
the long line of Stuarts, that ill-fated, misguided, 
fascinating race. Here is the room in which a 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 61 

Douglass met his death by the hand of his sover- 
eign. Here is the palace built by James the Fifth, 
and thronged with " noble dame and damsel bright," 
when the Scottish court was in its prime. Here is 
the turret and the Franciscan steeple, which the 
poet has linked with Malcolm Graeme. 

We were shown a long, solid, subterranean vault, 
in which were kept the lions for the royal sports, and 
the area into which they were let loose, beneath the 
balcony of the royal spectators. 
* The Castle is occupied by the troops of the garri- 
son, and the long hall where King James held his 
court is not open to inspection. 

It is with the exterior of the Castle, however, that 
the most historic interest is interwoven. The view 
from the ramparts not only sweeps a valley of sur- 
passing beauty, but takes in the mighty Bens in the 
far distance, and the inferior, but still lofty ranges of 
hills that lie between. The memory is bewildered 
with the wealth of association crowded into the 
scenes beneath the eye, as one stands at the Lady's " 
Lookout, a small opening in the northern wall. 
Besides the varied charms of natural scenery, he 
looks down from that castle wall upon the battle 
fields of Bannockburn, Stirling, Pentland Hills, and 
to the hills which overlook the field of Sheriff Mum- 
Below, is the Abbey Crag, upon which is now rising 
a monument to Wallace, the hero of the battle of 
Stirling. There are seen, also, the ruins of Cambus- 
kenneth's Abbey, and the bloody Heading hill. 



62 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Under the wall, winds the road called the Ballangeich, 
by which the pleasure-loving King, James the First, 
was wont to make his unperceived exit, when it 
suited his humor to put off the circumstance of roy- 
alty, that he might watch over insulted laws, " and 
learn to right the injured cause" — and, perchance, 
to pursue less exalted aims, if all tales be true. The 
Castle Park spreads out to the south, the scene of 
sport, both for noble and yeoman ; and the church- 
yard of Greyfriars, hard by, is hallowed by the 'dust 
of ancient martyrs, and made picturesque by the 
hand of modern taste. But it is hopeless to attempt 
to record all the features of interest pertaining to 
Stirling Castle. 

Not far off is Linlithgow Castle, where Mary of 
Scots was imprisoned. Within the town are the 
remains of Mar's Work, a dwelling which Lord Mar 
built, in part, from the ruins of Cambuskenneth. 
The failure in its completion is attributed to that 
sacrilege. 

The gray fortress of the North bids fair to outlast 
the ravages of time for long centuries to come ; a 
key to unlock the sanctuary of enthusiasm, and a 
shrine of patriotism to the Scottish heart, for which 
I fervently envy the sturdy, yet romantic race. 

Aug. 15. Edinburgh. We are established in a 
hotel opposite the East Gardens, and Sir Walter's 
monument ; and in full view of the Castle, on one 
side, and Salisbury Crags -on the other. Took a 
carriage and commissioner, this morning, for a long 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 63 

day of sight-seeing. Drove first to Calton Hill, a 
high eminence, overlooking the city, whereon is 
rising a monument to Nelson. An unfinished copy 
of the Parthenon, intended to commemorate the 
heroes who fell at Waterloo, stands like a ruin upon 
the summit, and a Greek monument to Professor 
Plajrfair, and another to Dugald Stewart, also occupy 
the hill, which commands a wide view of Edinburgh 
and its environs, Leith, North Berwick Law, the 
Bass Eock, and the broad estuary which widens to 
the German ocean. 

Edinburgh is, without doubt, a splendid city, but 
one, also, of great contrasts. One sees magnificent 
edifices, surrounded by spacious grounds ; and narrow 
wynds, from which tower up tall buildings to such a 
height as to shut out sunlight and cheerfulness from 
the unenviable alleys. In such a wynd stands the 
house in which Walter Scott was born. 

John Knox's house still stands in the Canongate, 
and a small window projects above the street, from 
which he was wont to feed the congregated assembly 
below with his strong meat. We saw his pulpit, 
afterwards, in the Museum of the Koyal Institute. 

The gateway of the Canongate Tolbooth, still 
yawns upon the street; but the Heart of Mid Lo- 
thian is represented only by a large stone heart 
in the pavement, where frowned the old gateway, 
battered down to drag forth Porteus to his ter- 
rible fate. In the Grass Market, a small marked 
spot in the paved street denotes the site of the gibbet, 



64 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

from which many a martyred patriot has passed to 
his rest. 

From the noble Hospitals, the fair green gardens, 
and the stately monuments which adorn the modern 
city, the traveller must always turn with deepest 
interest to Holyrood. It matters little whether he be 
a partisan or a denunciator of the fair, but not per- 
fect Queen, there is the spot of interest in Edin- 
burgh. 

We stood within the ruined walls of the beautiful 
chapel — in partial ruin even when Mary plighted her 
troth to Darnley, beneath the chapel window. But 
in her own apartments there is a tangibility, an 
internal evidence of authenticity, such as does not 
force itself upon the conviction, with equal effect, 
within any of those castled walls, where nothing but 
the bare masonry presents the record of the past. 

Here, upon the threshold trodden by her youthful 
feet, destined to many a flinty path, you pause to 
note the very state in which the royalty of the six- 
teenth century was wont to dwell. There is the very 
pillow, upon which reposed her golden head ; the 
mirror which gave back her lovely face ; the imple- 
ments of handicraft which her fair fingers employed 
to beguile the weary hours, in that rigid Northern 
home, a chilly contrast to the gay court of France. 
There is the very closet where she watched her 
favorite writhing under the ruffian steel. One can 
Veil imagine the loathing with which she turned 
from the ill-timed caresses of her jealous lord ; for if 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 66 

she indeed loved Kizzio, her heart was breaking with 
anguish ; and, if not, it was tilled with fierce indig- 
nation. Condemn, despise Mary of Scots, as one 
may — within the time-worn, blood-stained walls of 
Holyrood, he remembers, with tearful pity only, the 
beautiful queen, the unhappy woman. 

Within the court of the palace, is a beautiful foun- 
tain, adorned with exquisite sculptures, representing 
the various personages and incidents of Mary's time. 
In the grand old castle, we saw the room in which 
she gave birth to her degenerate son, and the window 
through which he was let down by a basket, to Lord 
Murray. Here was also a portrait of Mary, differing 
somewhat from the ordinary pictures, but, as I think, 
more attractive. The ancient Castle stands like a 
part of the solid rock upon which it frowns, and 
swarms with soldiers, as it has done for hundreds 
of years. Customs, and costumes, and weapons, 
have changed ; but, through them all, the garrisoned 
fortress has come down from the depths of the time 
immemorial. 

We were admitted to the chamber containing the 
Eegalia, the long-lost, long-sought jewels of the 
Crown. Sir Walter Scott, (with what interest of 
Scottish history is he not identified?) obtained a 
commission to search for the missing treasures, and 
was the fortunate discoverer of their hiding place. 
They consist of the crown, handed down with vari- 
ous additions, and with all its thorns, from the earlv 
sovereigns to the Stuarts ; a sword, mace and 



66 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

sceptre ; a splendid chain of the Order of the G-arter ; 
a signet ruby ring valued at twelve thousand pounds ; 
a jewel representing St. George and the Dragon, set 
in diamonds, and valued at thirty thousand pounds ; 
and a locket containing a miniature of Anne of 
Denmark, worth ten thousand. 

The Castle wall, the fosse, the drawbridge, the 
grooves of the ancient portcullis, the outer rampart, 
were all full of interest. On the rampart stands 
Mons Meg, a clumsy cannon, fabricated in the fif- 
teenth century, and famous in several battles of later 
date. Its last exploit was that of bursting, while 
firing a salute ia honor of the Duke of York, in 
1682. If it had chanced to carry oft' His Royal 
Highness, it might have deserved well at the hands 
of the country. 

We were so fortunate as to witness the daily cere- 
mony of setting the city time, which is performed in 
this wise. Upon the top of the unfinished Kelson 
monument on Calton Hill, rests a large ball, which, 
shortly before one o'clock, begins slowly to ascend. 
The time is calculated at the Observatorv, for Green- 
wich, and at the point of one, the ball suddenly falls, 
and by an electric wire fires a cannon upon the 
Castle rampart. 

We concluded our day of exploration with the 
Queen's drive, a fine 'sweep around the base of Salis- 
bury Crags and Arthurs Seat; from which we could 
see the ruins of Anthony's chapel, and the place of 
Muscat's cairn. I have omitted much that has 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 67 

occurred during the day, but find it impossible to 
record it all. We made an effort to bear Dr. Boyd 
preach, but found, on arriving at his church, that he 
had not yet returned from his summer vacation, and 
we went to St. James', in York Place. The service 
was conducted by the curate, Be v. Mr. Montgomery, 
and the venerable Bishop, Dr. Terrot. Mr. Mont- 
gomery is a fine reader and good preacher. The 
service varied somewhat from our own, the choir 
leading the responses, and leading, but not perform- 
ing, the singing. We were not tempted to seek an 
entrance to Dr. Gruthrie's church, as the reports of 
the crowds, usually in waiting at the doors, were dis- 
couraging. 

Aug. 17. Abbotsford — what more is needed 
tha,n the name ! We left the railway at Melrose, 
and drove through a pretty country, rolling from the 
Tweed up a low range called the Black Hills. We 
alighted at a close gate, and entered Abbotsford by 
a winding descent of trim gravel walk, bordered by 
hawthorn and ivied wall, reaching the side entrance 
of a small hall upon the ground floor ; whence, after 
recording our names, a little maid led us up a stair- 
case, to Sir Walter's study. It is a small room, sur- 
rounded by book-shelves, a light gallery Containing 
books running around the upper part of the room. 
At a plain desk in the middle of the room stood a 
chair cushioned with black leather, and we paused 
before it, as in the presence chamber of inspiration. 
Here its master toiled to reproduce the conceptions 



68 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

of his rich imagination ; and here he faithfully 
labored, while giving rein to his varied fancy, to be 
true to nature and to history, and to keep pure the 
fountains of poesy and fiction, from which he dis- 
pensed delight to the world. 

In a tiny room opening out of the study, is his 
bust, cast after his death. This, his room of private 
conference, he called " speak-a-bit." 

The library contains objects of all kinds of inter- 
est. A part of the furniture is ebony, from Carlton 
House, the gift of its royal master. A part, consist- 
ing of elaborate Eoman work, was a present from 
the late Pope. Under a glass case, lie treasures of 
curiosity and antiquity, such as were just fitted to 
please his delicate antiquarian taste, along with 
splendid gifts from crowned heads and distinguished 
men. 

I wish I could remember them all, but the attend- 
ant, doubtless weary of his continual duty of repeti- 
tion, was little disposed to suffer us to linger over 
objects of such interest to us, and I can enumerate 
but few out of the many curiosities there preserved. 
There were golden bees from the mantle of Napo- 
leon ; a curiously wrought casket which belonged to 
Mary of Guise ; drinking cups, carved out of rare 
woods ; a glass upon which Burns had engraved a 
verse ; a snuff box belonging to Balfour, of Burleigh ; 
Eob Koy's pouch, a Highland dirk, and miniatures 
of Scott and his wife. 

His own genial face looked kindly down upon us, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 69 

from the wall, beside the sweet portrait of Lady 
Scott, and the hush of his presence was upon us, 
while we moved among the treasures which his hand 
so delighted to gather, and trod the apartments upon 
which he lavished such wealth of toil and taste. 

We stood where he yielded up his peaceful breath 
— worn out, not with years, but with cycles of 
thought; where 

" The weary wheel of life at length stood still." 

In the dining room, where he died, are many fine 
family portraits ; one of his son, Walter, particularly 
beautiful. There are portraits of his parents, and of 
his great-grandfather, a bearded old cavalier, who 
forswore shaving until the King should " have his 
own again," and, in consequence, he wore the manly 
appendage to his dying day. 

The Armory, a room filled with curious and histo- 
ric weapons, was Sir Walter's own especial delight. 
Among other things, I remember Rob Roy's gun, a 
fine modern looking piece of arms ; and Claver- 
house's pistols, which made one shudder to remember 
what fiery streams of cruelty have been launched 
from their polished barrels. There were swords and 
knives of all descriptions. I remember Mrs. Hemans' 
exclamation at the sight of this room, 

" 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array." 

There was the cuirass of James the Fourth, and relics 
of I know not how many scions of royalty. But the 



70 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

royalty lay, after all, in the genius of the place. 
What has been our journey through the charms of 
Scotland, but a pilgrimage to this shrine ! Its master 
was the priest and prophet of the land. 

The hall is the elaborate room of the suite, filled 
with armor, lined and ceiled with curious carvings, 
partly from the ancient palace of Dumferline, and 
adorned with the armorial bearings of the clans to 
which he has given an undying interest. 

We strayed through the gardens which he planned ; 
saw the old Tolbooth door built into the wall of the 
house ; plucked a few flowers from the garden, and 
looked our last upon the home of genius, consecrated 
to a more enduring fame than that of the towns and 
castles which he loved to celebrate. 

We drove along the road, remembering that here 
were his daily walks ; through the little village 
where his face was once familiar as household words ; 
and took our way along the base of the Eildon Hills, 
cleft in three by the witchcraft of Michael Scott, to 
Melrose Abbey. 

This beautiful ruin is remarkable for the delicacy 
of its carvings — and for having been transfused into 
poetry by Scott, Under the chancel, lie the heart of 
Bruce, the remains of the Black Douglass, of Alex- 
ander the Second, and of Michael Scott, the great wiz- 
ard, whose stone effi.gy stands Over against his grave. 

But vainly did the cross-signed stone press upon 
the ashes of Michael Scott. When the dread secrets 
of his sepulchre were laid open, at the command of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 71 

the Lady of the Border, the wizard essence made its 
escape, and descended upon a second Merlin ; who 
touched with his plumed wand the barren heaths and 
craggy shelves of Scotland, and they became fairy 
land. And by the same touch he peopled them 
with "atrial knights and fairy dames." 

The spell of witchery still lies, as of yore, in gra- 
marye ; and, once encircled by its potent charm, the 
students of its mystic symbols throng the hills and 
moors and shores of the enchanted land, and do 
tearful homage in the halls of the enchanter, and 
bend with reverent step above his dust. 

The burial place of Walter Scott is a fit resting 
place for a poet. Dryburgh Abbey lies in solemn 
quiet among stately trees, far away from the tumult 
of the busy world. We reached it by crossing the 
Tweed in a tiny ferry boat, and winding through a 
long, quiet, shady lane, among green meadows, mel- 
lowed by the soft level light of the evening sun. 

The Abbey is of great extent, and exceedingly 
beautiful. It is said that Gothic architecture takes 
its design from the forest aisles ; in this case, the 
prototype has resumed its sway. As you look up 
the nave from the main entrance, two rows of noble 
trees stretch up on either side ; their stately stems, 
and interlacing boughs well supplying the lack of 
"long drawn aisle and fretted vault;" while every 
where within the Abbey precincts, stand huge trees 
which bear unquestionable record to its great anti- 
quity. We were shown a yew near the entrance, 



72 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

said to bear the same date with the Abbey. The 
family sepulchre of Scott is in a corner of one of the 
remaining aisles, defended by a railing, and sheltered 
by one of the few entire arches of the venerable pile. 
His wife, his eldest son, and his son-in-law, rest 
beside him. The Abbey once belonged to his ances- 
tors, and one feels a peculiar satisfaction that he had 
a right to a resting place in such accordance with his 
own tastes. 

We recrossed the Tweed, and left the charming 
spot with regret. 

It is no harsh transition from Abbotsford and Dry- 
burgh, that we are sleeping to-night at Penrith, with- 
in the domain of peerless King Arthur, and that 
to-morrow we mean to evoke the ghosts of the 
Bound Table. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 73 



CHAPTER IV. 

ENGLAND. 

Penrith — Ulswater — Windermere — Grasmere — Rydal — Ambleside — Lancas- 
ter — Haworth — York — Chesterfield — Chatsworth — Haddon Hall — Ken- 
ilworth — Warwick — LeamiDgton — Stratford-on-Avon. 

We cannot discern " many-towered Camelot," but 
I thought of fair Queen Guenevere as we threaded 
the queer, quaint, old-world streets of Penrith, to find 
the Giant's grave ; the resting place of what giant is 
left to conjecture. Two tall stone pillars, tapering 
upward, from a circumference of eleven feet, mark 
the extremities of the grave, fifteen feet in length. 
The ancient Runic inscription is so worn by time as 
to leave only a fretted surface to the stone. We 
stood for a few moments to 

— " moralize on the decay 
Of human strength in later day," 

and returned to the inn, passing by an ancient 
school-house, founded, as the Latin inscription upon 
its front asserts, by Queen Elizabeth. 

We mounted the top of a stage-coach, which, by 
the way, is far the most desirable mode of viewing 
the country, and a very agreeable style of riding, 



74 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and passed out of Penrith, by the Castle and the 
Bound Table. 

Every foot of English soil is the prison house of 
genii, and every footfall presses some hidden spring 
that brings the spirits to the upper air. Penrith 
Castle and the Pound Table ; within what a charmed 
circle do these mystical words enclose us ! Within 
it rises the stately figure of the peerless King, the 
model of knightly prowess, of kingly faith, of Chris- 
tian honor, of womanly delicacy. To England 
belongs the honor of the conception of the purest 
ideal of uninspired perfection. I say honor, for it is 
of the essence of national character that the ideal 
national hero is created. Yet is it a proof of our 
perverse nature, that we turn with more tenderness 
of interest to Launcelot than to Arthur ? 

A few miles out of Penrith is a cluster of Druid - 
ical stones, called Long Meg and her daughters; but 
our path lay in the opposite direction. 

Just out of our way, led the road to the Vale of St. 
John and its enchanted castle. I am glad to give 
local habitation to the scenes of the beautiful legend- 
ary lore of the times of Arthur. 

The Pound Table is a green turf elevation (a com- 
plete circle) of about one hundred yards in circumfer- 
ence, in a field by the roadside. 

We drove through a beautiful country, with many 
peaks in the distance, upon which we were glad to 
recognize, once more, the purple heather, down to 
the lovely lake of Uls water, where a little steamer 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 75 

la}' ready to ferry us through its beautiful reaches. 
The lalce winds among the hills in such a way, that 
but one of its sections or reaches can be seen at a time. 
You seem to be circling round a mountain-hemmed 
pool, until a hidden outlet opens to view, and you 
enter another secluded recess of beauty. 

Upon the upper shore of the first reach is 
Lyulph's Tower, in ivy-clad ruins, now partially 
fitted up as a lodge to a deer park. In a glen 
behind is seen Go w borough Park ; a pretty opening 
called Glen Coin descends to the lake; and all along 
the shores are sprinkled villas and cottages, enticing 
abodes of summer resort. 

The hills rise, every where, in brown bare peaks, 
each with its distinctive appellation, and at the end 
of a long perspective of sharp hills in the third 
reach, stands Helvellyn. Skiddaw, we could not, or 
did not see, the morning being misty. 

At Patterdale, the end of the charming water, we 
lunched, and set out again by carriage for Winder- 
mere. Here we found the counterpart of the pretty 
vehicle which we remember as associated with the 
pleasures of Welshland ; not the only thing in the 
day that reminded us of Wales. I do not know any 
seat in any vehicle, to compare, in comfort and 
pleasure, with the driver's box of that wagonette. 

The three horses which formed our turnout were 
suggestive, and the way answered the suggestion. 
The valley was, at first, wide and cultivated ; in the 
bottom lay Brotherswater, and one or two other 



76 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

small lakes, or, as they call them, tarns, whose names 
I forget. As we advanced to the ascent, the valley 
narrowed to a pass strongly resembling that of Llan- 
beris ; bat instead of the craggy impending cliffs, 
the hills sloped upward with a less threatening 
aspect. 

Thousands of sheep browsed upon the steep slopes 
or clung to the dangerous summits. Small rills 
came leaping down the rocky declivities in little 
silver cascades, ever and anon uniting their streams, 
until, at last, they flowed in a brawling brook, clear 
and bright, over a stony bed by the roadside. 

The road was, as a matter of course, the same 
smooth causeway that one finds from one end of the 
kingdom to the other, but the pass was long, and 
sometimes steep as Ben Lomond ; so steep that we 
were forced to alight, three horses not sufficing to 
drag more than the light empty vehicle up the 
straight ascent. 

This is called the Kirkstone pass, and at its head 
stands a stone from which it takes the name. 

At the breathing spot on the crest of the moun- 
tain is the highest inhabited house in England, being 
fourteen hundred feet above the sea. 

Now began a descent, quite as precipitous, and far 
more difficult than the toilsome way upward, but the 
danger of the way was soon forgotten in the unfold- 
ing charms of the scene beneath. 

Far in the western distance shone the waters of 
the sea, and, between, peak after peak lifted its 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 77 

brown head to the sky, and bathed its foot in the 
crystal waters of the lakes. The bare hills receded 
from the gorge, and soft green swells began to 
undulate through the valley, and roll up their waves 
of cultivation to the heathery moor. And a love- 
lier scene never greeted the eye of tourist in any 
land, than that which burst upon our view when 
Lake Windermere opened below, with all its gar- 
niture of cloud and cliff, field and wood, knoll and 
meadow, park, villa and cottage, spread out beneath 
our feet, in endless variety and matchless beauty. 
None but those who have threaded the charming 
maze, can comprehend what it means, to say that our 
way lay through Eydal, by Kydal water, and Mount, 
and Hall, to Grasmere; to the quiet churchyard, where 
lies all that was mortal of Wordsworth, and Southey, 
and Hartley Coleridge. If I should choose a home 
out of all the world, it would be in the midst of the 
combined beauty and cultivation of the Lake 
country. 

We dined at Ambleside, at an inn beside the lake ; 
and eschewing speed and steam in such a world of 
soft, rich, quiet beauty, we took an oarsman and 
drifted down the silent water, with the exquisite 
scenery in our vision, and the reverent memory of 
genius in our hearts. 

Watson, Wilson, Martineau, Arnold, Hemans, 
Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge — what a constella- 
tion glitters upon the bosom of these lovely waters. 

Aug. 19. We slept at night at Lancaster, at an 



78 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

inn which has been kept as such for two hundred 
years ; filled with antiquarian collections of pictures, 
china and curiosities. There were portraits of Queen 
Elizabeth, Milton, Hannah More, a lovely face which 
Mr. R thinks one of the Jennings, and an elegant 
full-length portrait of a nobleman by Godfrey 
Kneller. The house is full of quaint, carved oaken 
work, and was really a sight in its way — and so was 
the bill in the morning. ' 

From the red rose to the white. We came to 
York by way of Leeds, stopping at Keighly to make 
a pilgrimage to the home and the grave of Charlotte 
Bronte. I am glad to have been able to diverge 
from the beaten track, and to see the new aspect of 
life, presented by this drive to Haworth. This 
remote village is built of the stoniest houses, up the 
steepest, stoniest streets that humanity has often 
chosen for its habitation, and a more uninteresting 
class of people in appearance it would be hard to 
find. Men, women, and children, gaped upon us 
from the doors of the comfortless looking dwellings, 
and grinned at us in the streets, as if we were a 
small menagerie of curious animals. It was impos- 
sible to stop on the way, for the necessity of starting 
• anew would have proved too much for the insecure 
footing of the horses. 

The only ornament of the village was its pottery. 
Whether the place has a monopoly of license for the 
vending of earthen ware, or whether the pavement 
is the approved deposit for the display of household 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 79 

stuff, the same array of vessels of honor and dishonor 
flanked the entrances of all these stony abodes. 
The district is evidently a manufacturing one, and 
troops of stolid, heavy-looking women, with woollen 
shawls over their heads, were streaming down the hill 
to their afternoon work. 

The parsonage, where Miss Bronte passed her 
chilly life, stands at the summit of the long steep 
hill ; before it stretches the densely populated 
churchyard, one continuous pavement of memorial 
slabs ; and below is the church, in the chancel of 
which she lies beside her family. The stone under 
which she rests is in the aisle, directly in front of 
the communion table, and a slab in the chancel wall 
records the deaths of the whole family. We were 
shown her seat in the rectory pew, and her signature 
in the marriage register. A more untoward spot 
than this for the suggestions of fiction could scarcely 
be imagined ; but genius takes of imperfect mate- 
rials and constructs edifices which challenge the 
admiration of the most cultivated. 

Our journey this afternoon has left the barren 
peaks and the moorlands far behind, and has led 
among green fields and ripened grain ; a soft, rich, 
smiling landscape, which speaks of the cultivation 
of generations, and tells of antiquity as truly as do 
the ivy-grown abbeys which we have passed, with 
great boles of trees overtopping the encircling 
walls. 

Aug. 20. It is the week of the races, and we 



80 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

bade fair to be forced out of this ancient and curious 
city by the sheer want of a bed. We, the ladies, 
spent an hour and a half at the station, while the 
gentlemen went in fruitless quest from hotel to 
lodging house. 

At last, in desperation, they came up to take a 
moonlight view of the Minster before leaving the 
city, to seek more hospitable reception elsewhere ; 
and by a combination of good fortune and perseve- 
rance, found lodgings under the very shadow of the 
great Minster, which lifts its solemn front as if it 
were the growth of the ages, and no construction of 
the puny hand of man. We were wakened many 
times in the night 

" By the mighty Minster's bell, 
Tolling with a sullen swell," 

the waves of sound floating out upon the air, just 
above our heads. 

We were out, betimes, pacing the court, to gain 
some conception of the cathedral's extent and exte- 
rior beauty, and were quite ready for the opening of 
the doors at nine. I cannot attempt any description 
of York Minster. It is stupendous in its extent, 
solemn in its grandeur, exquisite in its beauty. It is 
in wonderfully perfect preservation. It was founded 
in A. D. 626. and has gathered added beauty and size 
from succeeding generations. The thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries contributed most towards its 
perfection. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. . 81 

Among the splendid windows, that of the north 
transept, called the " five sisters," is remarkably 
beautiful. It is more than fifty feet in height, exqui- 
site in harmony of color and delicacy of design. 
The great chancel window, seventy-seven feet in 
height, is considered the finest in the world. It is 
a specimen of English art, and was finished in less 
than' three years. 

It seems strange that with all the modern improve- 
ments in science and the arts, these ancient windows 
defy all attempts to approach them in the combined 
splendor and softness of their coloring. One discerns 
the imitation at a glance. It would need a volume 
to describe the beauties of this mighty structure. 

We saw, in the vestry, a most curious relic of 
antiquity, the drinking cup of Ulpho, the donor of 
the site of the edifice, by which the chapter holds 
the fee of the bequest. It is an elephant's tusk, 
polished with great skill, bound with silver, and 
inscribed with various designs. Archiepiscopal rings 
of great value, and a silver crosier, a present from 
Catharine of Braganza, to her confessor, form a part 
of the curious possessions of the church. 

Monuments of Archbishops, lords and benefactors, 
■ are scattered around the edifice, or affixed to the 
walls. The Chapter house is a gem of beauty ; the 
delicate carvings and rich windows are nearly four 
hundred years old, perfect in preservation ; and the 
room still serves the purpose for which it was con- 
structed. The choir is screened with elaborately 



82 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

carved oak, but has been twice destroyed by fire ; 
once at least the work of an insane incendiary. 

Here we attended morning prayer. As it was my 
first experience of cathedral service, curiosity min- 
gled with my devotions. But it was an awe-inspiring 
service, to kneel where prayers went up a thousand 
years ago to Him in whose sight "a thousand years 
are but as yesterday when it is past." The service 
was intoned by one of the minor canons, and the 
lessons read by another ; the president and another 
canon being present in their robes. Intoned prayer 
has, to my taste, more the effect of a performance 
than of devotion, but the music was superb ; led by 
the grand organ, and chanted by a choir, not of boys, 
but of men, it was satisfying, even under the roof of 
such a cathedral. 

After service, we ascended the lantern, which rises 
like a square tower from the centre of the cross. It 
is one hundred and ninety -one feet high, and has at 
the top an area of sixty-eight feet square ; a broad 
platform from which the view takes in miles on miles 
of country, with varied field, and waving woods, 
and distant hills. From it you see also the ruins of 
the palace of William the Conqueror, the Abbey of 
St. Mary's, and the wall which partly encircles the 
city, with its massive bars or gateways. For York 
is an ancient city, the great Roman capital, dating 
before the Christian era. Here Constantine the 
Great was born, and Constantius died; and herein 
later clays has been the seat of royal abode and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 83 

national consequence. We came to England to see 
not only things, but people ; and by way of accom- 
plishing the latter purpose, we drove out to the races. 

I had never imagined myself capable of growing 
enthusiastic over a race course, but it was even so; 
it was one of the most exciting and gayest of scenes. 
The running was beautiful, the lithe steeds seeming 
scarcely to touch the turf, and to enter with an intel- 
ligent interest into the excitement. We saw five 
races; the two most important were for the York 
cup, and the great Yorkshire stakes. The winners 
were Mr. Naylor's Macaroni, and Mr. Savile's Eanger, 
beautiful horses both. In the Gimcrack stakes, the 
winner, Coast Guard, was a fine horse, but the second, 
Syren, was a beautiful creature, that tempted one to 
covet; a small, dark, delicate-limbed thing, seeming 
to understand and appreciate the admiration which 
she received. 

The scene in the enclosure beneath the grand stand, 
upon which we were seated, was a study. The per- 
fect babel of betting, the eager hush of breathless 
excitement, and the revulsion at the result, were in 
excessive contrast to the usual notion of British 
imperturbability. However, every nature must have 
its outlet, and perhaps betting is the English safety- 
valve. It is strangely incomprehensible to woman- 
kind. 

From the races, we came on to Chesterfield by 
rail ; and thence by carriage to the quiet inn at 
Edensor, where we repose under the shadow of the 



84 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

great Duke of Devonshire, whose beautiful domain 
of Chatsworth, we visit to-morrow. We have driven 
through a grazing country, not unlike the hills of 
New England. The country about Chesterfield is 
of great beauty, broken into soft irregular swells, 
and covered with the green and gold of field and 
harvest. Indeed, beautiful is the only epithet appli- 
cable to the landscape of the whole country. 

At Chesterfield there is a spire upon an ancient 
church, which has the appearance of having been 
twisted and distorted from the perpendicular by a 
whirlwind. The villagers assured us that it was 
many feet out of plumb ; but we afterwards learned 
that the effect is produced by the peculiar manner of 
putting the lead upon the wood of the spire, and 
that, notwithstanding its apparent inclination, it is 
perfectly erect. 

The inn at Edensor is one of the prettiest, quiet, 
country places, just at the park gates. From the 
windows you look out upon the smooth green glades, 
where a thousand deer troop among the forest aisles, 
undisturbed by beast or sportsman. 

Aug. 21. We drove up the smooth park road to 
the famed dwelling of the richest Duke in England. 
Chatsworth is not imposing as a structure, being an 
extensive, but rather plain, square-looking edifice. 
It fronts upon a succession of garden terraces, by 
which is the descent to the Derwent, a sweet, quiet 
stream. The entrance is by tall gilded gates, at one 
of the extreme wings. Indeed, one seldom sees here 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 85 

what is apt to monopolize the better part of Ameri- 
can dwellings, an entrance upon the main front. 

The interior is on a scale of magnificence worthy 
the establishment of a Duke who has crowned heads 
among his guests. The spacious extent of grand 
halls, lofty stair-cases, splendid corridors, and mag- 
nificent apartments, is crowded with works of the 
highest art, and with every appropriate expression of 
the wealth and taste of the owner. 

The apartments overlook not only the distant park, 
but a wonderful variety of pleasure grounds and gar- 
dens, such as belong to no other estate in England. 

The most striking beauty of the rooms themselves, 
independent of the rare and costly articles to be 
found in them, is the exquisite wood carving which 
adorns every room, and especially the chapel. It is 
by Gibbons, and represents flowers with minute deli- 
cacy, like the most carefully moulded wax petals. 
The graceful wreaths that surround the wainscoting, 
stand out from the heavy wood as if just suspended 
in natural garlands; and among them nestle birds 
with plumage just as delicately rendered. In one of 
the rooms hangs a frame, in which is enclosed Gib- 
bons' masterpiece. It is a small bird, with a bouquet 
of flowers, and folds of richly wrought lace depend 
from them. It seems incredible that a material so 
heavy as wood can be wrought into such a perfect 
representation of an airy fabric, fine as threads of 
gossamer. 

Among the choice works of art, too numerous to 



86 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

be mentioned or even noted with more than a passing 
glance, was a splendid green malachite vase, a present 
from the Emperor Nicholas, and a still more splendid 
table of the same magnificent stone, from the Empe- 
ror's daughter. Among the Imperial gifts were also 
busts of the Emperor and Empress. The Czar was 
guest at Chatsworth during his visit to England. 

The great attraction at Chatsworth, in my eyes, 
was the collection of sculpture. Canova, Chantrey, 
Powers, and other masters have contributed to this 
rare embellishment of a private mansion. One large 
hall is devoted to statuary of the choicest description. 
It was pleasant to see a fine bust of our own Everett 
in such companionship. t Among the pieces of sculp- 
ture which I remember with most pleasure, were a 
group of Yenus with Cupid extracting a thorn from 
her foot ; Mars and Cupid ; Endymion and his dog ; 
Madame Letitia and Pauline Buonaparte ; and a 
splendid Hercules. 

Two grand lions couchant guard the entrance from 
the hall of statuary to the orangery : and here begins 
the wonderful part of Chatsworth. 

Sir Joseph Paxton, the architect of the Crystal 
Palace at Sydenham, was the Duke's gardener, and 
Chatsworth grounds were the scene of his many 
years' toil and success. The gardens cover many 
acres. The conservatory itself has a broad carriage 
drive through its centre. A light, beautiful glass 
structure rises, like a gigantic air bubble, from the 
conservatory, and within are found plants from every 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 87 

corner of the tropics, from fern to palm. One may 
imagine the height of a building which permits the 
palm to spread its tall fans beneath its shelter. 

Through the midst of the conservatory a stream 
of water is brought, in a continuous fall, over a suc- 
cession of rocky terraces, to feed an artificial lake 
beneath the drawing-room windows. 

You presently pass out of the elaborate gardens, 
filled with exotics and artfully massed shrubs and 
flowers, into what seems a wilderness of uncultivated 
wildwood, which is, nevertheless, a work of art, still 
more elaborate than the former. 

Thousands of huge rocks lie scattered in irregular 
confusion, like the primitive occupants of the soil ; 
and among them grow forest trees and underbrush ; 
heather clings to the stony earth, and ferns and 
maidenhair spring luxuriantly from the dim crevices. 
Here and there tall cliffs overhang the solitary way, 
seeming solid as the everlasting hills ; and yet they 
have been artificially constructed of rocks blasted 
from their original position in the primeval hills, and 
carefully replaced here in their native order. Little 
streams trickle through the clefts in the rocks, where 
green mosses thrive under their droppings. The 
path is a woodland way ; no mark even of the shears 
reminds one that he is within bow-shot of royal mag- 
nificence. By and by the way leads under a long 
fissure in the rock, and a mass of stone, of many 
tons' weight, seems to bar farther progress ; but at a 
touch it turns upon a pivot, and proves to be only a 



88 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

gateway to the egress. Near by is a rocking stone, 
so nicely poised that the pressure of the finger sets 
it in vibration. 

Then the notice is drawn to a palm-like tree, stiff 
with bristling points, from every twig of which sud- 
denly bursts a shower, met by tiny leaps from a 
hidden fountain below. At every little lakelet the 
attendant disappeared,, and presently a feathery foun- 
tain shot into the air, and fell in a shower of pearls 
upon the surface of the pool. 

Wealth and art seem to be exhausted in attaining, 
within this charmed space, all the varieties of nature. 
Yet all this outlay keeps up, not a home, but a show 
place, for the Duke is at home upon another of his 
splendid estates, and Chatsworth delights the eye of 
the public more than that of its noble master. 

On one side of the park, near the house, is the 
remnant of a tower called Mary's bower, the place of 
confinement for the Queen of Scots for a time, under 
the charge of the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury. 
I have an impression, but do not know whether it is 
correct, that this was also the place where Lady Ara- 
bella Stuart was confined when she made her unsuc- 
cessful attempt to join her husband. 

As we drove back through the park, a herd of 
more than two hundred deer came leaping over the 
low hills, as unconcerned at the presence of man as if 
he were no more dangerous enenry than the sheep 
which were browsing in the quiet pastures. 

Haddon Hall is one of the ancient relics' . of the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 89 

grandeur of past generations, as Chatsworth is the 
representative of modern magnificence. 

The walls of the gray old dwelling and fortress are 
in perfect preservation; the rooms all whole, just the 
same, with the exception of the furniture, as they 
were in the days of the Peveril of the Peak. The 
walls are still hung with Grobelin tapestry, and por- 
traits still adorn the walls. The old door, black 
with the storms of years, admitted us, through a 
narrow wicket, to the quadrangle, around which stand 
the massive walls and ancient towers, and beyond a 
second court are pretty terraces, with walks of noble 
trees; and the unfailing ivy clothes both walls and 
trees with cheerful verdure. 

The great banqueting hall resembles, except in its 
spacious extent, a very old-fashioned kitchen. The 
floor is of stone ; a huge fire-place nearly fills one 
side, and oaken benches are ranged along the heavy 
worm-eaten oak tables. Around the upper part of the 
room runs a gallery, from which perhaps the dames 
sometimes looked down upon the wassail below. 

In one of the chambers still stands Queen Eliza- 
beth's state bed, with all its ancient hangings ; and 
her portrait and that of Leicester hang in the draw- 
ing-room. 

We explored the chill, stony chambers, and climbed 
the highest turret to catch the sweet picture spread 
out beneath the low afternoon sunlight, and went 
back once more to enjoy the terraces and gardens, 
crowded with the dim shadows of the long past. 



90 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

In the extreme tower is shown the door by which 
one of the damsels of the house, Dorothy Vernon, 
escaped to join a favored lover, forbidden to press 
his suit in the approved way, from what cause does 
not appear in the legend. Perhaps family feud, per- 
haps prejudice may have influenced the fair one's 
guardians; it is just possible that a prudent, and 
loving regard for her welfare may have been the 
spring. Be that as it may, the old, yet ever new tale 
of love, stronger than law or prudence, still remains 
— the best remembered, because of its most enduring 
sympathies, of the legends of the Hall. This Hall, 
once a present from the Conqueror to his son, is, even 
by virtue of that same elopement, the property of 
the Earl of Rutland, and he preserves the possession 
with, that reverent love for the links which bind the 
present to the hoary past which distinguishes this 
nation, so rich in the proofs of the prowess, the 
chivalry, the power and the splendor of the past — 
so full of magnificence and enterprise in the present. 

From Haddon we came to Rowsley, and thence by 
rail to Rugby, a place than which no shrine of devo- 
tion for the scholar and the Christian should be more 
dear. Here lived and labored the lamented Arnold ; 
and from this quiet home of learning have gone forth 
streams which shall purify and gladden the earth for 
long years to come — perhaps I should say forever. 
We slept at Leamington, a modern town and fashion- 
able watering place, the handsomest of all the smaller 
towns that we have seen in the country. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 91 

Aug. 22. Left Leamington for that charming en- 
joyment, a long drive through English scenery. One 
cannot go amiss ; the country presents some new 
beauty at every step, and these counties through 
which we have just been passing, are one continuous 
garden. The green hedgerows encircle fields bright 
with the emerald verdure of lawny grass, or golden 
with the wealth of ripened grain standing in abund- 
ant sheaves, while the busy gleaners gather the stray 
ears of corn from the stubble — a labor more pic- 
turesque to the tourist, I fear, than profitable or 
pleasing to the poor harvesters, whose scanty store 
needs the addition of such meagre plenishing. 

As we sweep along the quiet country over these 
perfect roads, we cannot help wondering where are 
the people who make up the dense population of the 
island. Our own country roads are not more lone 
than these. We see abundant traces of the hand of 
man in the tillage of the soil, but the dwellings are 
scattered, and the hamlets small. It is eminently 
suggestive of the probable congestion of population 
in the larger towns. 

The English love to seclude their homes, and a 
gateway opening through the wall that lines the way, 
is usually the only indication of your near approach 
to some abode of beauty or stateliness within. But 
the simplest names upon the guide-boards are classic 
with associations which have been familiar to us from 
childhood. 

Our way lay to Kenilworth, the most picturesque 



92 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ruin in England. The very name calls up a picture 
which is as poetic and romantic as it is historic. 
Robert Dudley, the handsome, fascinating, but not 
very faithful favorite of the great Queen, is the 
middle figure in the scene ; but a woman's heart 
aches for the stern lonely fate of the woman whose 
strong sense of the necessities of her nation taught 
her to put down her woman's love with a resolute 
grasp, and embittered, with a thousand pangs, that 
inner life in which her sex must find its happiness 
or misery. 

One cannot see this stately, ivy-clad ruin, rising 
upon the landscape, with only the ordinary interest 
attached to the historic past. The busy fancy builds 
again the ruined walls, hangs banners upon the per- 
fect towers, peoples lawn and park with prince and 
noble, knight and squire, and catches a glimpse of 
the fair face of Amy Robsart at the window of her 
lonely tower — happier even there, in her innocent 
love, and her [ignorance of her coming doom, than 
the monarch in her presence chamber. The date of 
Kenilworth is lost in antiquity, but it was a place of 
importance in the time of Henry the First. The most 
ancient and the most perfect of the towers is called 
Caesar's Tower. One side of the court contains 
buildings erected by John of Graunt; the southern 
side was built by Dudley ; the western was the work 
of Henry the Eighth, and is entirely gone. It is re- 
markable that the later edifices are the most perish- 
able, and are crumbling away, while the towers of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 93 

most remote date are firm and solid, and even the 
windows are still perfect. The whole ruin shows 
that it was a palace of great splendor. The feudal 
times, when the desideratum in a castle was simply 
its power of resistance, had passed away, and light, 
and beauty and grace began to be possible in the time 
of Leicester. 

The windows would be handsome and graceful 
even in these times, and they must have commanded 
a beautiful scene of lake and wood. The lake is now 
converted into a meadow, and the great portal which 
Dudley built, and through which Elizabeth made her 
splendid entrance, is now a well-kept farm-house for 
the tenants who take care of the place. 

Leicester's bed-room, the State apartments, the 
dining hall, the drawing-room, are all easily distin- 
guished. Mervyn's Tower contains the room in 
which Amy was confined during Elizabeth's visit. 
Lord Clarendon, the fortunate possessor of this most 
picturesque ruin, spares no pains to keep it in good 
preservation. I have never seen such luxuriance of 
ivy. In addition to the ordinary ivy, which we 
cultivate at home with so much care, and which 
seems here to be the natural garb of inorganic mat- 
ter, another species hangs its full leafy garlands upon 
the walls, with a growth almost like a shrub, making, 
upon the rough outline of the ruins, a verdant wall 
of beauty, ever fresh and ever charming. One of 
the acts of vandalism that disgraced the rule of 
Cromwell was the giving up of this noble mansion 



94 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

to his soldiery for pillage and destruction. Without 
some such act of intentional violence, the Castle of 
Kenilworth might have been standing in perfection, 
at this very day. 

On our way through the country roads from 
Kenilworth to Warwick, we passed Stoneleigh Ab- 
bey, the residence of Lord Leigh ; seen only by 
glimpses, and withdrawn from the public thorough- 
fare, as English country-seats delight to be, by wind- 
ing avenues beyond the walls of enclosure. Guy's 
Cliff, the property of Hon. Bertie Percy, is an excep- 
tion. It breaks upon the view with a most unex- 
pected pleasure. As the high road passes a small 
water, you look up the opposite side, through an 
avenue of noble trees, to the house, standing in a 
wilderness of flowers. 

The story of Guy's Cliff, as the legend runs, is 
romantic. Guy, the first Earl of Warwick, a 
renowned giant, went with his peers to the Crusades, 
leaving the Lady Felicia, or Phyllis, as she was 
called, at home. Becoming weary of the Crusades, 
and of public life, he privately returned in the dis- 
guise of a palmer, and under the protection of the 
Lady of Warwick, he hewed himself a dwelling out 
of the rock, not far from his own home, where he 
passed the remainder of his life. He met his sor- 
rowing, solitary wife, as her almoner and ghostly 
adviser ; but kept his secret fast locked in his own 
breast, until the near approach of death loosened the 
strong grasp of his will, and he sent for his wife, and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 95 

revealed himself to lier. She survived him but a 
short time, and they both lie in the rocky home 
which his own hands had fashioned. Alas ! poor 
Lady Phillis ! 

Warwick Castle is the perfect realization of one's 
ideal of an English nobleman's home. It is ap- 
proached by the ancient town of Warwick, where 
one sees the hospital for old soldiers, founded by 
Robert Dudley, guarded still by the cloaked veterans, 
as it was three hundred years ago. But the town 
gathers around the base of the great castle, as tiny 
shoots cluster at the foot of a majestic oak. You 
feel, as you see the gray, massive towers looming 
against the sky, that you are approaching the abode 
of royalty ; and in good sooth the instinct is a true 
one, for here dwelt one whom royalty must needs 
acknowledge as a King maker. 

You enter a massive porter's lodge, in which the 
keeper shows you a room containing many relics of 
the great Earl Gruy aforesaid. He was over eight feet 
in height, and his armor, and that of his horse, are 
here entire ; with his halberd, his lance, and his por- 
ridge pot, the latter capable of containing one hun- 
dred and two gallons, made of bell metal, bright as a 
modern tea-kettle. The portress said she saw it thrice 
filled with punch on the occasion of the present Earl 
coming of age. There was the flesh hook with 
which the giant fished his meat from the caldron. 
I think Shakspeare may have commemorated this 
very pot in his Witches' caldron ; he was a near 



96 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

neighbor, and must have been familiar with it. 
There were in the same room some arms taken from 
the Armada. From the lodge, the way is hewn out 
of solid rock, higher than a man's head ; ivy and 
shrubs cover the top of the rocks, and overhang 
their sides. 

Over the massive inner gateway still hangs the 
portcullis, and no touch of time has crumbled the 
mighty structure of these walls. The wide green 
court is surrounded by the solid, perfect wall of the 
ancient castle, flanked by tall towers at each corner 
of the quadrangle. Here is Caesar's Tower again, 
Guy's Tower, bearing date 1 394, and the Keep. Un- 
der the first mentioned is a strong square dungeon, 
which, within the present century, has served for the 
county prison. 

The present dwelling forms the south side of the 
court, and is the home of the Earl, as it was the 
home of the great King maker whose portrait hangs 
upon the wall within. It is one great charm of the 
place, that, with all its stately magnificence, it is still 
a real home, and I could feel far more pride in the 
possession of Warwick than of Chatsworth. 

The entrance is flanked by two small cannon. The 
baronial hall into which the vestibule leads, is a 
splendid room, sixty feet long ; it's huge fire-place is 
filled with logs of wood ready for kindling, and 
chairs are placed ready for guests. 

Here are many curiosities ; several complete suits 
of armor ; the buff coat worn by Lord Brooke, when 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 97 

he was wounded at Litchfield ; a helmet belonging 
to Cromwell ; abundance of arms, horns of deer and 
elk, elephants' tusks, and Indian curiosities. The 
ceiling is very elaborate, and adorned with the 
armorial bearings of the family. From these win- 
dows there is a charming view of the park, with a 
long winding sweep of the Avon, and an artificial 
waterfall ; an exquisite scene of quiet beauty. 

The Castle is filled with fine paintings, especially 
a large collection of Vandykes ; paintings by Ru- 
bens, Corregio, Da Yinci, Lawrence, Reynolds, Hol- 
bein and Teniers ; a sweet picture of the Duke of 
Buckingham (Villiers) and his brother, and many 
family pictures. The most striking is Vandyke's 
large picture of Charles the First on horseback, at 
the bottom of the hall. The rooms exhibited are 
en suite, forming a vista of three hundred and thirty- 
three feet. They are truly magnificent, yet not so 
large as to exclude the idea of habitation. 

The dining* and ante-dining room, the Red, the 
Green, the Cedar drawing rooms are all filled with 
splendid furniture, and adorned with valuable pic- 
tures. The most curious thing of all is a sideboard, 
carved out of an oaken trunk from Kenilworth, a 
present to the Duke from the county. It represents 
upon its back the entrance of Queen Elizabeth into 
Kenilworth, after Scott's rendering, in a kind of alto 
relievo ; at one side is the meeting of Amy with 
the Queen in the gardens, where the poor girl claims 
the royal lady's protection, and on the other the 



98 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

interview in which Leicester shrinks from avowing 
his marriage in the presence of the indignant mon- 
arch. At the corners are single carvings of Dudley, 
Raleigh and others. The famous possession of the 
house is a table inlaid with precious stones ; a won- 
der of design and of jewels. The State bed-room 
contains the bed and furniture of Queen Anne, a full 
length portrait of her Majesty, and a toilet table of 
Queen Victoria, hung with pink silk, covered with 
point lace. The room adjoining is the Countess ; 
dressing room, elegant with rich furniture and buhl 
ornaments. 

The gardens are handsome, and the lawns more 
beautiful than we have seen any where else; and 
down the long vistas of the park stand cedars of 
Lebanon, stretching their wide branches over Eng- 
lish earth; perhaps brought from Palestine by the 
great Earl Guy himself. The entire grounds are 
charming for their homelike seclusion. 

In the conservatory stands the great Warwick 
vase, two thousand years old ; dug out of the earth 
at Tivoli, and bought by the late Earl in 1774. It 
has a capacity of one hundred and sixty-eight gal- 
lons. The sculptured wreaths with which it is 
adorned, and its exquisite design, are too often re- 
produced to need description. Of all the "stately 
homes of England," I like Warwick best. 

I thought of the Lady Phyllis as I gazed up at 
the gray old towers, and pitied the lone woman, who 
climbed their weary height, day after day, until her 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 99 

eyes grew dim with watching the mysterious East ; 
who, night after night, pressed the sharp pang of 
defrauded love to her heart, until the aching wound 
grew too deep for cure ; and all this while, her lord 
was treading the daily paths at her feet, shrouded in 
a disguise which even love could not penetrate. 

We turned from Warwick with reluctant steps, 
and went on through the same pretty country 
roads, to Stratford-on-Avon ; a name which one 
never utters without a mental act of reverence. 
Here in a low cottage, whose stone floor and bare 
rafters are in striking contrast with the tesselated 
pavement and magnificent arches which elsewhere 
encircle his monument, is the chamber in which the 
immortal Shakspeare first saw the light. The cot- 
tage is bare of all furniture, except a table and 
chairs for the accommodation of visitors. It contains 
a very fine portrait of the poQt, by an unknown 
artist, and two or three busts. Even the genius loci 
of Shakspeare's room has not sufficed to restrain the 
petty vandalism which, in striving to become famous, 
succeeds only in rendering itself infamous. The 
walls and low ceiling are black with the meanness of 
names — as if the name of royalty itself would not 
pass unnoticed in that august presence. 

From the cottage, we proceeded to the Church of 
the Holy Trinity, where lie the remains of the poet 
and his wife, with the quaint and most unworthy 
epitaph of his own selection. 

Over against the stone which covers his vault, is a 



100 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

tablet, with a portrait bust of colored marble, and a 
Latin inscription. The bust was covered with paint 
for many years, and has been cleaned and restored 
in the present century. It represents him in a 
crimson doublet and a ruff, with a pen between his 
fingers, and a book in his hand. 

The church itself is very ancient, and has much 
architectural merit, containing also some curious 
ancient tombs and effigies. The broken font in 
which Shakspeare is supposed to have been baptized 
is still preserved. 

We crossed the pretty Avon, upon whose border 
rises the quiet church, the casket which guards more 
sacred dust than any urn " between the withered 
hands " of Eome ; and took carriage at last for 
London, scarcely daring to look at the enticing 
towers of Oxford, which must wait a more conven- 
ient season. 

Blenheim and Woodstock are in the same cate- 
gory. Our charming English tour is ended ; and 
henceforth our English interest must circle about 
London and its environs. Coming up to London ! 
Who has not looked upon that dim possibility, as 
the consummation of earthly desire; and, indeed, 
one might be well content with what is gathered 
within its walls. It is the metropolis of the World. 
I think no one who has ever read English literature 
would feel as a stranger in the streets of London. 
You cannot saunter along its ways, without meeting 
at every corner a familiar name, or striking some 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 101 

chord of association that goes vibrating through all 
the memories of your lifetime, and ringing changes 
upon all the great names of the literary world. 

We are established upon the Strand, next door to 
Exeter Hall ; not, however, on account of our Exe- 
ter Hall proclivities, and are tolerably masters of our 
position. 



102 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER V. 

ENGLAND. 

London — Spurgeon — St. Paul's — "Westminster Abbey — Windsor Castle — 
Tower — British Museum. 

Aug. 23. Went in the morning to the Tabernacle, 
on the Surrey side of the Thames, to hear Spurgeon. 
The crowd is so great that his own people are admit- 
ted by tickets. Strangers assemble in a dense mul- 
titude before the closed doors, to await the hour of 
service. If the rush into the church be any index 
to the spiritual state of the worshippers, the kingdom 
of Heaven bids fair to suffer violence. 

The building is an immense edifice for a church ; 
it has three galleries, one above the other, around the 
entire amphitheatre, and altogether seats five thousand 
people. I saw very few vacant seats on this occasion, 
and many people stood in the aisles. We obtained 
seats near the door, and my first thought was of the 
impossibility of hearing a word at the farther end of 
such an assemblage. The choir sat in a large enclo- 
sure beneath the preacher. Some official conducted 
him through to his place, which is on a level with the 
lower gallery. Mr. Spurgeon is a stout, country- 
looking man, much older in appearance than in years. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 103 

The first tone of his voice dispelled my doubts in re- 
gard to hearing ; it rang clearly and distinctly through 
the great building, and made every word audible. 
The service followed the usual extempore order, the 
reading of Scripture being acccompanied by a run- 
ning commentary upon the text. There was no organ, 
but there was something grand in seeing that vast 
assemblage of worshippers, one mass of living people, 
stand up to sing the praise of God. Mr. Spurgeon 
first read the hymn, and then lined it as the people 
sang. His sermon was without notes, and he stood 
without desk or pulpit, at a low railing before his seat. 
He preached from Isaiah, 62 : 12. " Sought out ;" 
the analysis running thus : The expression " sought " 
proves the natural state of the thing sought, to be lost, 
or "the condition of man by nature." Secondly, the 
manner of seeking especially noted. Grod's people are 
not only sought, but sought out, effectually, divinely. 
It needs divine omniscience to discern, divine om- 
nipotence to secure, divine love to persevere in rescu- 
ing the lost, who neither hope, nor desire, nor intend 
to be found. Thence was deduced the duty of indi- 
vidual Christians to make it their especial business to 
seek out the lost among their fellow men. He dwelt 
upon the necessity of carrying the gospel to those 
who will not come to listen to it ; or, as he said, to 
be " grandly impertinent " in winning souls to Christ. 
His discourse was eminently orthodox, and deeply 
imbued with a zealous, affectionate earnestness ; pure 
in diction, fluent in utterance, and persuasive in ten- 



104 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

derness and ; practical application. There was no 
mannerism about him, no self-conscionsness, but an 
evident earnestness in the Master's work. 

In the afternoon we went to St. Paul's, and heard 
a choral service. "Heard" applies to the grand 
music ; the great organ thundered through the arched 
roof with such Glorias as I had dreamed of, but never 
heard, and the chanting was magnificent ; but prayers 
and sermon were alike inaudible. It is no great 
wonder, for speaking in St. Paul's must be very like 
speaking under the open heavens ; and prayers 
chanted in the dreary monotone of the choral, lose 
all individuality of utterance. It is a most undevout 
style of prayer, at least to an untutored perception. 
But the choirs are beyond all description. From the 
full deep bass, through the rich tenor, up to the sweet, 
well-trained treble of the younger voices, all was 
pure, satisfying harmony ; and the anthems, a part of 
the service unlike our own, were inexpressibly thrill- 
ing. I have heard no hymns nor metrical psalms. 

Aug. 24. Our way to-day has been through the 
Strand ; under Temple Bar, where the heads of traitors 
used to be exposed ; through Fleet Street ; up Ludgate 
Hill, past many a familiar corner ; through St. Paul's 
churchyard, which means the circular street that 
encloses the Cathedral, into Cheapsicle ; all ways 
which our imagination has trodden years ago. Our 
only sight-seeing has been the Cathedral, quite enough ■ 
for one day. We went through it, from turret to 
foundation. The edifice itself, built by Sir Christo- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 105 

pher Wren, after the great fire of 1666, does not 
compare, in splendor of architecture, with the great 
Minster, but it is imposing in its vastness. It is five 
hundred feet long, one hundred wide, and four 
hundred and four in height. It contains many monu- 
ments, among which are those to Howard, Dr. John- 
son, Sir Joshua Keynolds, Bishop Heber, Kelson, 
Cornwallis, Sir John Moore. The choir contains 
some of Gibbons' beautiful wood carvings. The 
windows are nearly all plain ; but some of the arches 
are gilded, as are the galleries around the top and 
bottom of the dome. Upon the great dome are 
frescoes by Sir James Thornhill, representing eight 
scenes in the life of St. Paul, viz. : His conversion, 
Paul and Barnabas at Lystra, St. Paul and the sor- 
cerer, St. Paul and Silas in prison, St. Paul after the 
shipwreck at Malta, St. Paul before Agrippa, St. 
Paul on Mars' Hill, and the burning of the sorcerer's 
books at Ephesus. The ascent to the top of St. 
- aul's is a matter of some note, a ad we have qualified 
ourselves to speak of it. 

The early part of the ascent is quite easy, so far as 
the whispering gallery, which encircles the inner base 
of the huge dome. Here you may look down into 
the space below, and gain some idea of the height 
from the diminished size of the people upon the 
pavement. The guide places you against the wall, 
while he goes to the opposite side of the gallery, 
whence his whisper is instantly and audibly trans- 
mitted to vou. 



106 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. ' 

Corresponding to this gallery is an outer one, of 
stone, from which you obtain a view of the city, 
which would be very satisfactory but for the haziness 
of the atmosphere. But this is not all of the ascent ; 
three hundred and fifty-six steps more are necessary 
to bring you to the desired point of vision. Yisiting 
the clock and bell rooms, by the way, you see a great 
bell, which tolls only for the death of the royal 
family, the Bishop of London, the Dean of St. Paul's, 
and the existing Lord Mayor. The last time it 
sounded, its knell fell upon the great city in the dead 
of night, announcing the death of the lamented Prince 
Consort. 

The Grolden Gallery is around the exterior summit 
of the dome, whence you take in the great panorama 
of London, with tower and spire, park and palace, 
street and river, at a glance. 

But there is a higher attainable point, and it is not 
in Yankee nature to stop short of the possible, so we 
climb on up the steep stairs of the lantern ; the stairs 
become ladders before we reach the top, where, be- 
tween the pillars which support the gilded ball, we 
gain a still loftier glimpse of London. This seems 
fairly the extent of any faculties less agile than those 
of a monkey, but the attendant, who seems rather 
proud of our enterprise, calls out from below, 
" higher,'' and small brass rods at last reveal them- 
selves in the ornaments, which become stepping- 
stones to our ambitious footsteps. Masculine feet 
find it no very hard matter to mount them, and by 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 107 

the careful assistance and direction of the guide, I 
find myself also in the close little ball, the very top- 
most step of the lofty Cathedral. I feel rather proud 
of the exploit, and shall content myself with this feat 
in the way of climbing. 

"Facilis descensus" was a misnomer upon this oc- 
casion, for as the operation is to be performed by the 
feet, while the head is still in cloudland, a misstep is 
possible, and would prove more than awkward. 

But, by the same kind assistance, my blind feet 
were safely planted upon the lantern, and then the 
descent was only steep. The fee which my kind 
friend bestowed upon the helpful guide, unlocked his 
heart, and with it a generally forbidden door, which 
led to the inner Golden Grallery, from which immense 
height we looked down, not only upon the pavement 
and the pigmies below, but upon the dome itself. 
This is the point for seeing the frescoes of the dome, 
and for getting a realizing sense of the great height 
of the building. 

Our next visit was to the crypts, in which are en- 
tombed the remains of Reynolds, Lawrence, Fuseli, 
Turner, West, Wren, and Rennie. There lies Nelson, 
in his granite sarcophagus, and, last and greatest, the 
Iron Duke himself, the great Wellington. His 
monument is of porphyry, and inscribed with the 
list of his victories. Behind it stands the imposing 
funeral car upon which his coffin was drawn to the 
tomb. It is cast from the cannon captured in his 
successful battles, and is of many tons' weight. Upon 



108 W A V 6 [ 1) B S K K T C H E 8. 

it are wrought the cap, the sword and Marshal's 
baton. It is covered with a heavy pall, and sur- 
mounted by costly ostrich plumes. It was drawn by 
twelve horses, which are here represented by basket 
work, covered with black palls. The strong founda- 
tions of such a cathedral make a fitting resting-place 
for the dust of such heroes. 

London and the play are as characteristically inter- 
woven as London and its cathedrals, so in the evening 
we went to the nearest theatre, the Adelphi, and saw- 
some very good playing in a new comedy, " The Hen 
and Chickens.'' 

Aug. 25. Have been to Westminster Abbey — 
through its crumbling cloisters ; through its many 
chapels, overlaid with tombs and effigies, and en- 
shrining the noble dust of ages. King and Queen, 
noble and priest, warrior and statesman, philoso- 
pher, courtier and poet make these dumb walls 
eloquent. Here lie most of the royal dead of Eng- 
land, from Edward the Confessor to George the 
Second. Here, from Edward to Victoria, have the 
sovereigns been crowned. The chair used for coro- 
nation, from the time of James the First, is a heavy, 
plain oaken chair, destitute of any ornament. It is 
impossible even to mention the tombs of interest, or 
to enumerate the tablets of the Poet's Corner — that 
shrine for the pilgrimage of the world. The tablets 
of Shakspeare and Handel pleased me most, Han- 
del's finger points to the music of his great anthem, 
" I know that my Redeemer liveth." Shakspeare 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 109 

bears a scroll, upon which is inscribed his own lines, 
" The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces," &c. 
Campbell also wears his finest lines as his own in- 
scription, "This spirit shall return to Him," &c. The 
numerous chapels contain the ancient treasures of 
the Abbey ; the royal monuments are all in them. 
Even Mary of Scots rests near her illustrious cousin, 
and the remains of the little smothered princes are 
gathered in an urn among their kindred. I should 
need to copy the guide-book to enumerate all the 
tombs that interested me. Among the tablets, one 
to Aymer de Valence struck me with many roman- 
tic associations. 

One scarcely thinks of looking at the Abbey itself, 
there is so much more in it than of it ; although if one 
had not seen York Minster, it would seem more im- 
posing for its own sake. I have unconsciously taken 
that grand and beautiful structure as the standard of 
cathedrals, and must needs find more satisfaction in the 
associations than in the architecture of Westminster. 
It is extremely unadorned, except by the memorials 
of the illustrious dead. The arches of the cloister 
windows, as restored, are beautiful, but the ancient 
material of the edifice shows painfully the ravages 
of time, and seems in some places to be completely 
disintegrated, a mere dust. 

The playground of the great Westminster school 
seemed to me peculiarly unattractive. The heavy 
stone pavements beneath these low arches seemed 
as little as possible like a place for schoolboy amuse- 



110 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

merits. It possesses one desideratum for tutors, 
there is nothing by which boj^s could possibly get 
into mischief. 

We went to the Queen's stables, Pimlico ; saw Her 
Majesty's horses and carriages, and the state carriage 
for the royal progress upon state occasions. It is 
one hundred and four years old, is ornamented with 
painted panels and gold, and weighs four tons. It 
is drawn by eight cream-colored stallions, which stand 
in luxurious idleness meanwhile. 

The horses and equipments of the Master of the 
Horse are also exhibited. They are black, with 
splendidly mounted black harness ; that of the state 
horses is scarlet and gilt ; altogether, the cavalcade 
must have a dazzling effect when in full train. 

Visited the state apartments at Windsor Castle, 
for which an order is necessary, which can be ob- 
tained free upon application to certain specific places 
in the city. 

The very name of Windsor Castle calls up the 
spectres of almost a thousand years. It was begun 
by the Conqueror, and has received additions from 
almost all his successors. It is a right royal home 
for the royal lady who inhabits it. The state 
apartments are stately, but not elaborate. Some of 
them are adorned with Gibbons' carvings, but I think 
them not so fine here as at Chatsworth. There are 
many splendid paintings by Vandyke, Lely and 
Lawrence ; and two rooms are hung with Gobelin 
tapestry, representing scenes from the book of Esther. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. Ill 

There is one room devoted to armor, curious weapons 
and Indian trophies. The private apartments are in 
another part of the Castle, which seems, in extent, 
more like a town than a dwelling. I do not know 
how large acircuit it encloses, but it must be many 
acres. 

The famous Windsor Terrace is a broad walk, 
with a heavy stone balustrade overlooking the Ter- 
race gardens at a great height above them. The 
descent immediately below is a great depth, and, I 
fancy, drops into the ancient moat. The wealth of 
greenness in tree, and shrub, and vine, which man- 
tles the depth, is perfectly charming. The view 
takes in Eton College, at no great distance. Here it 
is, or was, the custom for the royal family to walk on 
Sunday afternoons in the sight of the multitudes 
which then frequent the gardens. 

We were so fortunate as to be in time for service 
in St. George's Chapel, a beautiful church. The 
service was choral, as usual, the music charming. 
After service, we had a little time for exploring the 
chapel. The upper part of the screen is filled with 
effigies of Knights of the Bath ; a smooth slab in 
the centre of the choir covers the remains of Henry 
the Eighth ; and all the sovereigns since George the 
Second have been interred in the chancel vault. 
There is a very elegant little chapel containing a 
monument to the Princess Charlotte. It represents 
the Princess in a careless, reclining attitude, envel- 
oped in drapery, which, however, reveals entirely the 



112 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

outline of the figure. At each corner of the couch 
kneels a figure in the attitude of woe, also completely 
shrouded in drapery, which is a triumph of art over 
stubborn marble. Behind the couch is a sculpture 
representing the Princess ascending, attended by two 
angels, one of whom bears her infant in his arms. 
We went also through the cloisters. 

This is a part of an ecclesiastical edifice which 
touches me with a more powerful charm than even 
the stately aisles and the lofty arches. The green 
seclusion speaks of peace and rest ; while the busy 
fancy readily frames pictures of the past, peopled 
with the long succession of worthies who, though 
monks and friars, were human still, wrestling with 
human passions, and sorrows, and temptations, as 
they paced these quiet precincts, and gazed from 
these windows, now shadowed by the tenderness of 
the mantling ivy ; while they wove in the loom of 
Time the web whose ravelled threads we here gather 
up with reverent care, and guard from contact with 
the tangled skein of the present. 

The Home Park is very open ; the trees are all 
great oaks, planted either in long noble avenues, or 
in simple clumps, and are the grandest specimens of 
trees that I have ever seen. The wide open expanse 
is dotted with sheep. We have learned to look for 
this unfailing feature of park and field — England is 
one great sheep pasture. 

The view of Windsor from the direction of London 
is very impressive. The Castle stands high and dis- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 113 

plays, with very imposing effect, its massive walls and 
stately towers, from which fly the royal banners, while 
the masses of verdure that gather around its base, and 
the river which encircles it, add to it the charm of 
cultivation and beauty. It seemed to me that if I 
had been suddenly awakened from a dream upon 
the other side of the Atlantic, to the view of this 
kingly abode, I should not have failed to recognize 
it as English and royal. 

Windsor and Westminster ! we have known them 
Ions: as the abode of sovereigns: the home of the 
living and the resting-place of the dead. They have 
lost nothing of their ideal grandeur — the reality 
exceeds the pictures of the fancy. 

Aug. 26. We intended to have visited the parks 
and Kew gardens, but the weather proving unpropi- 
tious, we went, instead, to the Tower and the British 
Museum. 

It seemed as if wild beasts were the necessary 
addenda to one's idea of the Tower, and, although 
they have been long removed, the Warden told us 
that people were every year made fools on the first 
of April, by being sent to the Tower to see the lions 
washed. The attendant warden was in the uniform 
of Henry the Eighth ; a tunic of blue cloth edged 
with scarlet, fastening upon the shoulder, and wrought 
in front with a scarlet crown. The hat had at the 
base of its large crown, a wreath of red and blue 
knots, like rosettes. We saw many soldiers here, 
wearing medals in token of prowess in engagement. 



114 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

An East Indian regiment which had been fighting 
the Sikhs, was on duty. 

The Armory is very interesting. Efhgies clad in 
the suits of armor actually worn by the sovereigns 
and nobles of England, are mounted upon mail-clad 
horses, and men-at-arms and squires stand, with 
lance or halberd in hand, as if ready for the tilt. 
Some of the armor and arms are exquisitely wrought 
and inlaid. There are also weapons from every scene 
of conflict in which England has borne a part. 

A large part of the old Tower, including the room 
in which Lady Jane Grey was imprisoned, has been 
consumed by fire and rebuilt, but the tower still 
remains in which Anne Boleyn was confined ; the 
one in which the little princes were murdered, 
and the narrow, dark prison in which Sir Walter 
Raleigh spent twelve years of his life, and where he 
wrote the History of the World. 

The state prison is in the Beauchamp Tower ; its 
walls are covered with quaint devices, the amuse- 
ment of many a weary hour. Among them is some 
of the work of Lord Dudley, and the name of Jane 
carved by his own hand. 

Within the Tower yard is the spot, and within the 
Tower is the block, upon which were beheaded 
Catharine Howard, Anne Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey, 
and the Earl of Essex ; the last being the only man 
beheaded within the walls. The heading hill is just 
without the Tower precincts, and peaceful green 
trees grow upon the soil watered by such torrents of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 115 

noble blood. Opposite the great entrance, the Trai- 
tor's Grate opens to the river; bj which the con- 
demned were re-admitted to the Tower. To such a 
man as Sir Thomas More, was not the pang of enter- 
ing his prison under the obloquy of traitor, sharper 
than the headsman's sword ? 

The Crown jewels are among the sights of the 
Tower. The magnificent crown made for the present 
Queen, has upon the top a Greek cross, composed 
entirely of diamonds, having a very large one in the 
centre ; a large ruby, said to have been worn by the 
Black Prince, and an enormous sapphire glitter 
beneath it ; the cap is of crimson velvet, and the 
band is studded with jewels. The ancient crown, 
with which the Queens-Consort are crowned, is pre- 
served here, with a diadem made for the second Queen 
of James the Second ; and the crown of the Prince 
of Wales, of plain gold without jewels. 

There are sceptres ; the royal sceptre, surmounted 
by a cross ; St. Edward's staff, upon which is an orb ; 
the sceptre of equity, supporting a dove ; the Queen's 
sceptre ; one of ivory, belonging to the Queen of 
James the Second, and another, made for Mary of 
Modena. Then there are swords, temporal and 
spiritual, and the sword of Mercy, without an edge. 
There are many vessels of pure gold, among which 
are the anointing cup and spoon, a baptismal font, 
a wine cooler, a salt-cellar in the form of a tall castle ; 
if I remember rightly, this article was a present from 
the city of Bristol. A sacramental service, used at 



116 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the coronations, and thrice a year besides, and several 
other articles of the same precious metal, complete 
the state treasures. A model of the great diamond, 
the Koh-i-noor, is kept here, but not the jewel itself. 
The value of the whole display is reckoned at four 
million pounds sterling. 

The best exterior view of the Tower is from the 
river, and the structure seems necessary to the identity 
of London, it is so interwoven with its history. 

The British Museum is a bewildering labyrinth 
of all the wonders of nature, in flora, fauna, rock, 
precious stone and fossil ; and of art in various 
specimens of work from every age and every clime. 
From the skeleton of the mighty mastodon of our 
own western wilds, down to the minute specs of 
shelly life, every gradation of existence seems to be 
represented. A gigantic ichthyosaurus made me 
inwardly thankful that my lot was not cast in the 
reptilian 'age ; it measured eight of my utmost steps. 
A splendid mass of selenite, from Germany, pre- 
sented by Prince Albert, is conspicuous among the 
minerals. 

The libraries of the Museum contain every choice 
and valuable work to be found. It has been en- 
riched by the gift of several valuable libraries, since 
the founder, Hans Sloane, designed the beginning. 
The reading room is a circular room, beneath a fine 
dome one hundred and forty-two feet in diameter, 
surrounded by book-shelves, to which two gilded 
galleries give access. And here, without fee or re- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 117 

ward, the people may come, upon proper introduction, 
and read and write, or study the vast accumulation 
of knowledge here stored up by national and indi- 
vidual munificence. It is a noble institution, and 
does for the literary world what no amount^of private 
wealth and research could ever do. 

Being foreigners, we were kindly given an order of 
admission to this speechless room ; ladies, however, 
being permitted to advance only to the bar just within 
the entrance ; a significant utterance of the reputa- 
tion of the sisterhood on the score of silence. I 
thought it would have been a pretty device to have 
carved a rose in the apex of the dome. I was more 
interested in the autographs of the Museum than in 
all its other curiosities. 

The letters and various writings of authors, states- 
men, warriors and sovereigns, are here carefully pre- 
served. Some beautiful penmanship of Queen Eliza- 
beth, of Edward the Sixth, of Lady Jane Grey, are 
in the shape of books of prayer. Here is the original 
Magna Charta, much defaced by fire. There are au- 
tograph letters from the distinguished men of several 
generations, Americans among the rest; Nelson's 
last letter unfinished ; and there are the manuscript 
copies of the works of great authors. But under a 
glass, apart from all the rest, stands a frame covered 
with a silk curtain, carefully preserved -• and for 
what ? It is only a deed of a house, but one little 
scrawl in the corner is the signature of " Will Shak- 
speare." In the Museum there are many new dis- 



118 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

coveries of statuary and sarcophagi, especially from 
Egypt ; and here are the Elgin marbles, but it needs 
more cultivation than I possess to appreciate them, 
and one wonders how Lord Elgin should have de- 
spoiled Greece of her marble treasures, with any more 
propriety than Napoleon, who appropriated the works 
of art from the scenes of his conquests. 

We strolled out for an hour, the last delightful day 
of our stay in London, and saw many places well 
known to us by book and picture. We passed Tra- 
falgar Square, where was once the village of Charing 
Cross ; the open space contains several monuments, 
the principal one to Nelson, one to Napier, and also 
one to one of the Georges. We saw Northumber- 
land House, the Eoyal Academy and National Gal- 
lery, and walked down Pall Mall to see the rows of 
club houses. We passed through a bazaar, crowded 
with every purchasable commodity one could think 
of, and some that would never have entered my un- 
tutored brain. There we saw, too, the far-famed 
Punch and Judy — the automatic delight of child- 
hood from time immemorial. 

The rest of London we put aside reluctantly, until 
we shall re-visit the great city. I doubt if we shall 
find any foreign sights that will eclipse the interest 
of English splendor and English associations. 

In leaving England I would record an unqualified 
dissent from a commonly received notion that we 
must find the English brusque and ungracious. The 
unfailing well-bred courtesy of equals, and the un- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 119 

failing respectful civility of inferiors have, so far as 
our experience has gone, given a daily refutation of 
that error, and goes to establish that which I like to 
believe true, that good breeding is a cosmopolitan 
virtue, and however its expression may differ in 
small matters of national custom, yet it recognizes 
its shibboleth in the glance of the eye and the tone 
of the voice, and gives a ready response to the claim 
upon its sympathies. But it is no new thing to find 
the prejudices of the multitude exalt a mistake into 
a proverb, and because it is a proverb, the better 
informed accept it as a truth. 



120 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER VI. 

BELGIUM. 

Ostend — Brussels — Waterloo — Antwerp — tf alines — Cologne. 

Aug. 28. Left England with regret, even for the 
continent. The ride through the Kentish country 
is decidedly rural. It is a farming region, planted 
with hops, corn and potatoes, and villages appear 
only at long intervals. 

The chalky hills of Dover soon greeted our eyes, 
and the new sea washing their base. I thought of 
Aunt Betsey Trotwood as we looked back from the 
harbor upon the cottages along the downs. The place 
has a foreign air, not even English, as it seemed to 
me. I suppose it is of necessity that the ports on 
both sides the channel should have something of 
a hybrid effect. We embarked in a little steamer 
for Ostend. It was a beautiful day, and there 
seemed no earthly reason why the little vessel 
should perform such very complicated movements : 
a corresponding movement soon took place among 
the passengers, and I among them was obliged 
to betake myself to a state of prostration in 
the cabin, until the sea grew smoother. It was 
both ludicrous and vexatious, to be forced to 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 121 

submit to the tortures of sea-sickness without any 
apparent reason. But the roughness was of short 
duration, the entire passage occupying only five 
hours — and the Worth Sea smooth as a lake. We 
had the Prince and Princess de Joinville and their 
children on board, and saw their reception by the 
Duke of Brabant, at Ostend. We wended our way 
to the Custom House, where the officials performed 
a cursory examination of the luggage. No sights 
can ever impress one with the sense of being in a 
foreign land, like the unfamiliar sounds ; for it is a 
very different thing to catch the confused jargon of 
tongues in a mixed multitude, from comprehending 
sentences addressed to one's self. 

We fell in with pleasant English people in the 
railway carriage ; came on to Brussels through Bruges 
and Ghent, In the latter city some dwellings were 
pointed out to us as Spanish buildings of the time of 
the Duke of Alva. 

Aug. 29. Went to Waterloo over a heavily paved 
road, through a flat but rather pretty country, as un- 
like England as possible. The wide fields, planted 
with vegetables and grain, are without fences, and 
the roads, elevated above the fields, are marked by 
long, straight rows of stiff trees, carefully trimmed 
of al) the lower branches, which gives them the look 
of palms. We were attended with more than Irish 
assiduity by rows of little beggars, who ran persist- 
ently beside the carriage, varying their applications 
by turning a somersault, or by making cartwheels of 

9 



122 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

themselves in the most extraordinary manner, girls 
and boys alike. The bestowal of alms silenced them 
only until the quarrel which it occasioned was ad- 
justed, and then they overtook us with astounding 
celerity. 

AYe passed a beautiful wood, called the forest of 
Soigne. It is very closely planted, and the large 
trees grow tall and straight, with a remarkable 
equality of height ; the turf beneath is like a lawn, 
free from shrub or underbrush. A beautiful avenue 
opens through it, by which the English army marched 
away from the field of Waterloo. 

In the village of Waterloo there is a little church, 
filled with memorial tablets to those who fell upon 
the field, and there is a good bust of Wellington. 
Beyond the village of Waterloo is the little hamlet 
of Mont St. Jean, and still a mile beyond this is the 
br )ad field itself, upon which the fate of Europe was 
decided. The various points of interest remain much 
the same as at the battle. The headquarters of both 
generals are preserved, the farm house where Napo- 
leon spent the night preceding the battle, and the 
points of the extreme wings of both armies. 

At the central point of the English line a huge 
mound of earth has been thrown up, of a conical 
form, sixteen hundred and eighty feet in circum- 
ference, and three hundred feet in height, including 
the lion, which stands on a high table at the summit, 
with his paw upon a globe, and his face set defiantly 
towards France. The lordly emblem was surrepti- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 123 

tiously deprived of his tail during the sojourn of 
some French troops in the neighborhood, but their 
commanding officer compelled its restoration. We 
climbed the steep mound, which afforded us an ex- 
tended view of all the localities connected with the 
battle, but the wind was too high to allow us, the 
ladies, to scale the ladder to the pavilion on the back 
of the lion. Indeed the feat proved too much for 
the nerves of the English gentleman of the party. 
We visited the farm of the Chateau d'Hougoumont, 
the point of most fierce attack and repulse ; the 
house and the garden wall are still riddled with the 
marks of the cannon balls. The little chapel of the 
old chateau contains an image of the Virgin, which 
is supposed to have protected it ; a spent ball having 
just reached her feet, whence it fell harmless to the 
ground. 

The guide described the battle and its position 
well. One could almost see the terrible conflict, the 
anxious suspense, and the overwhelming despair of 
the brilliant warrior, as he fled from his last field, 
crushed beyond the peradventure of escape. 

One's faith is continually put to the test by the pro- 
duction of relics purporting to have been taken from 
the field, and as each individual case is possibly 
authentic, it is just as well, and a great deal less 
trouble, to take their genuineness for granted ; but 
credulity scarcely extends to the making one's self 
master of such dubious possessions. 

We returned to Brussels in time for dinner, which 



124 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

is an event in the Flemish day. The elaborate 
courses, and the delicate variety of cookery, are 
something new and tempting ; and notwithstanding 
the apparent incongruity of some of the concoctions, 
they form altogether the most savory viands that we 
have found abroad. Each article is served in a sep- 
arate course, with a change of plates. One could 
imagine a thirteenth labor of Hercules to get up and 
clear away the accumulations ; and there are two 
such dinners in the day. 

Aug. 30. The Sunday morning was charming, 
and we went to the Cathedral, heard splendid music, 
and, on my own part, saw Komish service for the 
first time. The church was beautiful, the priests 
gorgeously attired in robes heavy with gold, and all 
the paraphernalia of worship was magnificent; but 
the puerility of the service was disappointing and 
offensive. 

This cathedral has, among its ornaments, a pulpit 
of remarkable wood carving, of considerable anti- 
quity. It is a gorgeous edifice, but hidden away at 
the top of the narrowest of streets, and no stranger 
would ever light upon it by accident. 

We came home through streets thronged with 
people in holiday attire, and gay with beautiful shops, 
with their various merchandises displayed in tempt- 
ing array ; there being evidently no distinction be- 
tween Sunday and other days, except in the increased 
o-aiety. In the afternoon we took a walk upon the 
boulevards and in -the park, where we found a fine 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 125 

band playing classic music, and all the world was 
abroad, as at a fete. This is a really beautiful city, 
the streets are clean and well built, and the display 
of warehouses elegant. There are dignitaries at our 
hotel. The Count de Bodensky and the Prince Von 
Altenberg. 

The hotel surrounds a large, shaded, paved court, 
which our windows overlook, where people may sit 
at table, and enjoy the air without going abroad. It 
is entered through the house by a porte cochere, and 
gives a pleasant retirement in the midst of a city. 
We begin to feel like foreigners, where no English 
meets our ears, except from a chance traveller. The 
German and French are strangely conglomerated in 
a mixture called the Flemish. The medium language, 
however, is French ; waiters and officials all speak it, 
and some are sufficiently versed in English to under- 
stand usual orders. 

Aug. 31. Malines, formerly Mechlin. A most 
charming day. Weather has smiled upon us from 
the day of our embarkation, and, on the continent 
we have found the summer which we missed in 
England. 

We left Brussels for Antwerp, a fair type of an 
ancient Flemish city. There we saw the far-famed 
dykes for the first time. Our first visit was to the 
Church of St. Jacques. It is most attractive in the 
beauty of its sculptured marbles. The screen of 
one of the altars is carved entire from one piece of 
marble, with exquisite delicacy ; representing cher- 



126 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ubs, flowers, fruit and corn ; one figure of a child is 
remarkably beautiful. It is by Van Bruggen. The 
pillars which support the entablature above two of 
the altars, are adorned with similar sculpture, and 
many tablets of alto relievo, in the chapels, are per- 
fect gems. One chapel in particular, contains scenes 
of the crucifixion, which for delicacy and purity are 
wonderful. 

The great feature of the church is the sepulchre of 
Rubens, in a chapel devoted to 'his family. Above 
his tomb hangs one of his own paintings ; pictures 
of himself, his two wives, his children, his father, 
and cousin. On either side of the same chapel is a 
fine piece of statuary representing two reclining 
female figures, also belonging to Rubens' family. 
The windows of the church are very beautiful, and 
the whole building is so crowded with choice works 
of art, that one could find food for a month's study 
within its walls. 

We did not attempt to visit the multitude of 
churches, in each of which is stored up some choice 
work, but went only to the cathedral, beautiful in its 
decorations and its famous tower. 

The wealth and the genius of centuries have been 
lavished upon these vast edifices, and they bewilder 
one with the multitude of beauties. Here were costly 
shrines, wonderful carvings in wood, fine paintings, 
an d — Rubens' Descent from the Cross. I can de- 
scribe it only by its name. To one who has seen it, 
that is sufficient, and to one who has not, any de- 



/ 
WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 127 

scription is inadequate. Artists were busy at their 
easels, copying the splendid painting, but the mas- 
ter's strokes set their power at defiance. The painful 
and the sublime in such subjects are separated by a 
very narrow boundary ; the students were upon one 
side, and the master immeasurably upon the other. 
Over the High Altar is Rubens' Assumption, and 
opposite to the Descent is its companion picture, the 
Elevation. The latter is a great picture, but so much 
surpassed by the Descent, that it should always be 
shown first, in order to receive any just appreciation. 
In one of the chapels is a Crucifixion, by Vandyke, 
which seems to me inferior only to the Descent.- 

We made the long ascent of the beautiful tower, 
by six hundred and twenty- two steps, and were 
amply repaid for the toil, by the fine view, not only 
of the city with its quaint buildings and narrow 
streets, but of the surrounding country far and wide, 
the windings of the Scheldt, and the distant sea. 
As we re-entered the church, the devout had come 
in to pray. A sort of halberdier, wearing insignia 
enough to be mistaken for a knight of all the orders 
of the continent, was stationed, weapon in hand, to 
enforce proper spirituality ; and by way of accom- 
plishing that excellent purpose, he notified my friend 
that she was not permitted to lean upon her husband's 
arm during the hour of prayer. After having swal- 
lowed the camel, Holy Church has no longer capacity 
for such a gnat. 

After leaving the cathedral we drove about the 



128 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

city, saw a statue of Rubens, and the house in which 
he lived. The front having been destroyed by fire, 
it was replaced by a tasteful building, adorned with 
sculpture, and surmounted by a bust of the great 
painter. 

Our pleasant drive ended with a circuit of the 
beautiful public gardens. One cannot too much 
admire the beneficence which, upon these eastern 
shores, opens such fair green resorts for high and low, 
and scatters such wealth of art with a liberal hand 
for the refreshing and cultivation of the public taste. 
I loved to see the Flemish woman sitting with her 
knitting in these lovely gardens, with the works of 
the great sculptors before her eyes, educating her 
unconsciously into the love of the beautiful, and the 
appreciation of art. 

The al fresco life here is very picturesque ; people 
take their lunch at little tables upon the sidewalks, 
or in the pretty courts around which the houses are 
built, and undoubtedly enjoy both pleasures more 
for their combination. 

We are staying this beautiful night at Malines, 
and have been enjoying the glorious moonlight in a 
balcony overhanging number! es's groups of merry 
people seated at the little tables below. This is the 
point of convergence for the northern railways. 

We have just missed a spectacle which was con- 
cluded here yesterday, having lasted a week, which 
accounts for the companies of queer looking priests 
upon the railway. It is an ecclesiastical fete, which 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 129 

takes place here once in twenty-five }^ears. The 
whole city turns out daily in grand cavalcade, each 
profession and class appearing in all the splendor at 
its command ; the ladies of the city in full dress, 
blazing with jewels, while the treasures of the 
churches are borne by the priests in full canonicals. 
From the descriptions we have heard, it must have 
been a gorgeous pageant, 

Sept. 1. From Malines to Cologne, by Liege, 
Verviers, and Aix-la-Chapelle, the railway lies 
through vast, flat, highly cultivated plains. As it 
approaches Liege, the country begins to roll back 
upon hills, and, after crossing the Meuse, becomes 
more and more uneven, until the plain is exchanged 
for a picturesque combination of pretty wooded val- 
leys, with cottages, gardens, and country seats, and 
steep, shaggy cliffs, where broom and heather re-ap- 
pear, welcome as old friends. 

The wildness of the country, watered by numerous 
streams, and reclaimed by cultivation at every avail- 
able point, is very charming. 

The railway, which, by the way, seems in Europe 
to find no especial obstacle in a mountain, is cut 
through many tunnels, and carried over many via 
ducts. As it approaches Liege, the descent is so 
sharp that the locomotive is detached, and the train 
let down by cables attached to an ascending engine. 

From Horrem to Cologne the way is by the Ko- 
nigsdorf tunnel, right through a mountain, a mile 
and a quarter in length ; cutting from the country 



130 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

drained by the Meuse, into the valley of the Rhine. 
There are many pretty towns and villages dotting the 
country, and occasionally a castle, the rude remains 
of feudal life, but none are especially picturesque. 
Cologne has the narrow, heavily-paved streets of the 
other towns of the country, but we did not find it so 
odorously distinguished from the rest as we had 
been le.d to expect. The luggage passes the Prussian 
examination here, although the frontier is as far 
back as Hebesthal. Our effects being evidently 
those of travellers only, were not touched. Indeed, 
this irksome duty is every where performed with as 
little annoyance as possible. 

We spent this afternoon in the famed Cathe- 
dral, a grand, unfinished structure, very beautiful 
in its style of architecture, and especially splen- 
did in its stained windows. Those of the choir 
are indescribably beautiful ; so is also a row high 
above the inner roof now in process of construction, 
which will unfortunately exclude them from view. 
This church will be a model of perfection should it 
ever be finished. Workmen are busy upon it at 
present, and the great organ is in progress of repair, 
to my great chagrin ; the hearing of this organ was 
one of my pleasures of anticipation in Europe. The 
absence of paintings and other decorations is owing 
to the disordered state of the building. Large con- 
tributions have been lately made towards its comple- 
tion, and the King gives annually thirty thousand 
thalers for the purpose. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 131 

We ascended the tower, and had a fine view of the 
city and the far-famed Khine. The ascent to these 
cathedral towers is always, for a part of the way, 
by outer galleries, which enable one to examine the 
architecture in all its noble combinations of turret, 
battlement, flying buttress and decorations, and you 
get a much more vivid conception of their height and 
vastness, than by simply taking a bird's eye view, at 
the top of the steeple. 

The unfinished tower, moss-grown with age, has 
still the crane by which the massive stones were car- 
ried^ but we did not venture out upon the dizzy, un- 
protected verge. 

I cannot connect the idea of construction with such 
an edifice as this. It seems to me to belong to the 
primeval creation as much as a mountain, and quiets 
the busy streets like a superior presence ; wearing 
the records of the forgotten ages with a calm, still 
grandeur that rebukes the pettiness of the stream of 
daily life flowing beneath its shadow. 

We took a delightful drive through the city and 
the park beyond its limits, following the bank of the 
river, the Ehine itself. We saw the house in which 
Rubens was born, and one in which lived Mary of 
Medicis. In passing a handsome house, the commis- 
sioner pointed out two white wooden horses project- 
ing from an upper story window, serving to -mark 
the place where, hundreds of years ago, lived a lady, 
who, having suddenly died, was interred in a tomb. 
Some one, coveting a ring upon her finger, entered 



132 WAYSIDE SKETCHES, 

the slirine, and using force to remove the ring from 
her finger, she revived. On returning to her house, 
the terrified servant who met her at the door, has- 
tened to acquaint the husband with the astounding 
intelligence of his wife's return. The Baron imme- 
diately replied that he would quite as readily believe 
his horses to be in the upper story ; whereupon, as 
the legend ran, according to the commissioner, the 
horses were found looking out at the upper window. 
The miracle overcame the Baron's incredulity, and 
he accepted both the fact and his wife ; and there 
these commemorative horses have remained for six 
hundred years. 

The official aforesaid, by way of vindicating his 
claim to the knowledge of French, German and 
English, threw the vocabularies of the three lan- 
guages into pi, and left each native to select the 
words which he best understood. The result was 
an occasional bit of information, extracted like a 
tooth. 

The space near our pleasant hotel is filled with 
women and girls, sitting beside their baskets of fruit ; 
a grateful sight, and very suggestive to palates de- 
prived of the usual summer luxuries of American 
abundance. 

Sept. 2. We went to visit the Church of St. Peter 
for the sake of seeing Rubens' picture of the Cruci- 
fixion of St. Peter. On our way we passed through 
the Church of St. Mary, situated where the capitol 
of the Romans once stood. 






WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 133 

It has no feature of interest, except its great an- 
tiquity, having been built in the eleventh century. 
The Church of St. Gereon bears date 1066. We 
were invited to examine the relics of eleven thousand 
virgins, in the convent of St. Ursula, but took them 
for granted, as not being among the specific objects 
of our trip. 

At St. Peter's, instead of the pleasure of seeing the 
desired picture, which was presented by Eubens, in 
consideration of his having been baptized in the 
church, we came upon a service of high mass ; and, 
after consuming a precious hour in waiting for the 
cessation of the censer-swinging and genuflections, 
we were forced to come away unsatisfied. It was 
curious to see oleanders and other shrubs in large 
boxes, standing about the pavement of the church, 
making a verdant bower of the aisles. While the 
priests went through their elaborate offices at the 
altar, I was much interested in watching the common 
people, as they dropped in, with their market baskets 
in their hands, and with all the tokens of their ordi- 
nary avocations about them. They crossed them- 
selves at the benetier, fell upon their knees, repeated 
their prayers, and went on their way. Whatever the 
creed, there is something very touching in this unaf- 
fected mingling of religious service with the homely 
duties of life, far more than in the gorgeous service 
which was going on in the other end of the church. 
The music was very fine, and the harmonies that 
swelled up through the roof, from organ and choir, 



134 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

were li^e those with which we have been long familiar 
in the grand old German tunes at home. 

We grew weary of the protracted service, and 
went away to the Walraff Richartz Museum, a noble 
building, filled with choice pictures of all the Grer- 
man schools. One of the great beauties of the exhi- 
bition is the exquisite painting upon glass. Scenes 
of exceeding delicacy, both sacred and secular, are 
delineated with a softness and richness of coloring, 
not to be equalled upon an opaque surface. Among 
the most charming were, the Adoration of the Magi ; 
a Madonna and child; a Boat Scene, very lovely ; 
three children drifting down a stream, having lost an 
oar, which the boy is vainly endeavoring to regain ; 
one little one has sunk down in helpless grief; the 
other encourages her brother, while they are all una- 
ware of the near approach of safety in the person of 
the father, whose vigorous strokes have brought him 
within an oars-length of the little mariners. Peter 
Walking upon the Sea, is very beautiful ; and there is a 
simple, lovely, suggestive picture of a weary maiden 
standing in the heat of the sun upon the threshold of 
a convent, while in the cool shadow within the door, 
stands a sister, bidding her welcome. 

We saw also pictures by Vandyke, Teniers, Hol- 
bein, Kubens, and others of their several schools. 
Pre-eminent among them is Kubens' Prometheus. 
The straining muscles, the agonized countenance, the 
writhing form of the sufferer, and the eager, fluttering 
ravenous clutch of the vulture, are intensely real. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 135 

In the same room is a modern painting of great 
dignity, by Leinwand ; Galileo in Prison. The phi- 
losopher stands at his full, stately height, his inward 
eyes looking far beyond his narrow cell, while yet 
his patient brow bears the marks of his long con- 
finement. His window is darkened by a group of 
idle starers from without, of whom he is either un- 
conscious or disdainful. 

Another picture in the same room is charming ; 
" By the Ruins of Babylon ; " there is also a very 
forcible picture of Cromwell beside his dying daughter. 
Another striking picture is one of a sinking French 
ship at the battle of Trafalgar. The eagerness w r ith 
which the sailors watch the tide of battle, as they 
cling to the masts and rigging, shows that the intense 
interest of the fight, and the fierceness of the shame 
and disappointment of defeat have swallowed the 
thought of their own danger. 

There are very ancient pictures in the collection, 
and, to my untutored eyes, the only merit of many 
of them lies in their antiquity. It is strange to me, 
that with nature ever before the eye, the artists of 
long ago should so often produce distorted and un- 
natural imitations of her works. The coloring of 
these pictures is wonderfully fresh, but theconcep-. 
tions of the present age, are certainly more true to 
nature, than the ideal of six hundred years ago. A 
painting of the Last Judgment has a novelty of con- 
ception which succeeds in arriving at the comic, even 
in the face of solemnity. The devils hold a firm 



136 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

grasp upon sundry dignitaries and respectable sinners ; 
cardinal and monk struggle in sometimes dubious 
strife with their adversaries ; the painter must have 
incurred the risk of an auto da (V for his profane 
suggestions. The miser finds retribution in gold 
thrust down his throat, while the hypocrite goes 
reluctantly downward, still wearing his sanctimonious 
aspect, and clasping his missal to his breast. On the 
other hand, a troop of the blessed (suggestively fem- 
inine) enter a door guarded by St, Peter with his 
keys. There are scores of Madonnas and impossible 
angels, but, ancient as they may be, one of the sweet 
glass paintings is worth them all. 

On our way home we made some purchases of 
fruit, consciously at incredible disadvantage, in con- 
sequence of that ancient disturbance at the tower of 
Babel. Nothing was spoken or understood except 
German, and the names of the coins and the numer- 
als in practical Dutch were very different from those 
of the guide books. It was excessively ridiculous 
to stand silently by, and see ourselves imposed upon 
by the demure women, who had little idea that we 
were impotently aware of their dishonorable tenden- 
cies. It was very homelike to see peaches again, 
even under the shadow of Dutch cupidity. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 137 



CHAPTER VII. 

GERMANY. 

Konigswentfsr — Drachenfels — The Rhine — Mayence — Weisbaden — Frank- 
fort — Baden Baden — Strasbourg — Basle. 

Left Cologne by steamer for the passage up the 
Rhine. A handsome pontoon bridge crosses the 
river just above the landing. There is little of inter- 
est upon the flat banks between Cologne and Bonn. 
The grandeur of the Cathedral dawns upon one 
more distinctly in receding from the city; long after 
the town has sunk to a mere inequality upon the 
horizon, the great edifice stands up looming against 
the sky. Above Bonn, the border of the river be- 
comes broken, and the seven mountains stretch 
across the view. They come thronging to the river, 
the Oalberg, the Wolkenberg, the Lowenberg, the 
Nonen-Stromburg, the Drachenfels, and the Hem- 
merich. 

The afternoon was charming, and there was abun- 
dant time to ascend the Drachenfels, and watch the 
sunset, and the shadows deepening in the defile 
through which the river cuts its way. We landed at 
Konigswenter, where one of the Caesars was impris- 
oned by the winter snows, and proceeded to make 

10 



138 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the ascent of the mountain; my friends on foot, 
myself upon a donkey. The creature being pur- 
posely trained to obey neither voice, bit, nor whip, 
required a leader, and a guide attended to make 
" explications ;" an imposition which one, in due time, 
learns to avoid. 

The ascent is by a good road to the very summit, 
and might easily be driven in a carriage. Here we 
saw the first vineyards. The vines are trained upon 
short poles, like beans, and at a little distance, pre- 
sent the appearance of corn in its early growth. 

There is a fine succession of views at the various 
turns of the road ; the country' is very pretty, and 
the whole course of the winding river is visible for 
many miles. Far in the distant horizon looms up 
the grand cathedral, keeping watch over the now 
invisible city beneath. In the other direction are the 
pretty island of Nbnnenworth and the castle of Eo- 
landseck. 

The views from this summit are very extensive, 
but do not compare in majesty with the wonderful 
sights from Ben Lomond. The castle of Drachen- 
fels is a complete ruin, picturesque in the distance, 
but clumsy upon near approach. A monument 
stands on the brow of the mountain, commemorating 
the passage of the Rhine in 1814 I climbed a steep 
cliff below the ruin, while awaiting the arrival of the 
pedestrians, and caught glimpses of a lone, sweet 
path, leading among the clustered hills, and the long 
dim line which marked the way to the chapel on the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 139 

Petersberg. We sat at the foot of the ruined walls, 
and watched the twilight gathering upon the river 
and its pretty banks, while we were still in the 
full rays of the level light, until the sunset warned us 
to return. 

I unluckily asked the donkey leader for a bit of 
our old friend, the heather, which was blooming in a 
cleft of the rocks; whereupon, inferring my general 
fondness for vegetation, he deserted his charge for 
every blossoming weed that sprang up by the way, 
and presented me, at the foot of the hill, with a 
bundle of the green things of the earth, wondrous to 
behold. Meanwhile, the wretched little brute, taking 
dishonorable advantage of his master's gallantry, 
made sudden incursions into the wayside vineyards 
after clusters of green grapes ; or, watching his oppor- 
tunity, he set off down the steep hill at a pace that 
threatened to make a projectile of his rider. The 
one advantage of donkey riding, is the ease with 
which one can disengage himself from the precarious 
seat, and step to the ground, when the creature's 
antics become intolerable. 

About half way down the mountain, is a secluded 
dwelling of considerable pretensions, belonging to a 
gentleman who has made a fortune in America, and 
has returned to enjoy it in his own land of legend 
and song. 

We supped in a vine-embowered piazza, overhang- 
ing the Rhine, with only German voices in our ears, 
and foreign sights for our eyes ; and, as I am going to 



140 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

bed, those for whom I write are sitting clown to 
dinner ; not, I venture to say, without some kindly 
thoughts for the absent, whose nightly benediction 
goes forth upon the western sky. 

Sept, 3. We rose early, to leave Konigswenter 
by the first boat, but, to our chagrin, she was so far 
in advance of her regular time, that we were left 
behind, to the serious derangement of the programme 
of the day. We found sufficient amusement, how- 
ever, in watching the troops of women and maidens 
in snowy caps and aprons, coming up from the mar- 
ket boats, with laden baskets upon their heads, and 
ranging themselves upon the stones of the small 
square court behind the hotel. There was a shrine 
and a fountain for their comfort, but neither seat nor 
shelter. The women took their stand beside their 
baskets, their fingers busy with their knitting, while 
they aw r aited their customers. 

We replenished our fruit basket with better suc- 
cess than at Cologne, either on account of our own 
improved quickness of comprehension, or from the 
superior honesty of the merchants, and were ready for 
the boat at nine. 

We had purposed leaving the river, and crossing 
some of the bordering hills, to vary the scenery, but 
were deterred by the assurance of experienced travel- 
lers that w T e could enjoy the Rhine region no where 
so well as by remaining on the river. 

And a beautiful river it is ; sometimes bordered by 
vine-clad hills, sometimes by rocky cliffs ; sometimes 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 141 

the country sinks into plain and valley, always pic- 
turesque, and always possessing the interest of ancient 
association and ruins of legendary attraction. 

It is wonderful to see with what minute and pa- 
tient toil the rocky face of the mountain is made 
productive, where seems scarcely roothold for a lichen. 

The acclivity is terraced, and the narrow beds 
covered with soil, often transported thither for the 
purpose; and the vine is planted where the clinging 
tendrils may find support from the very ruggedness 
of the cliff. When there is not even a practicable 
spot for a plantation, baskets filled with earth are 
suspended from the rocks, and from them the plants 
twine upward. Nevertheless, the vineyards of the 
Khine are not in themselves picturesque ; they are 
pruned too closely to retain their proper grace, and 
look stiff and stunted. 

The banks of the river do not need them for 
beauty, being so diversified in natural features as to 
present some new attraction at every turn. Never- 
theless, I am undeniably disappointed in the Rhine. 
The fault is evidently in my own misconception, and 
not in the scenery. I had supposed it to be even 
more grand than the Highlands of the Hudson ; and, 
except in the length of the Highlands, and in the 
ancient ruins that crown their summits, it is inferior 
to our own river. It lacks the majesty of the mighty 
mountains that bathe their feet deep in the magnifi- 
cent river, and lift their solemn heads with imperial 
grandeur to the clouds. 



142 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The Rhineland is, instead, exceedingly beautiful. 
The river, after a most unusual fashion, widens as it 
nears its source. The lovely islands that dot its 
bosom have each their own legend, and the ruined 
castles that crown every promontory speak forcibly 
of the importance attached to this frontier ages ago. 

It was, even then, evidently a populous country, 
and the grape hung its fair clusters over these rocky 
terraces before the iron heel of Koine was planted in 
their borders. 

The points of the route which had the most inter- 
est for us, were the ruin of Rolandseck and the ad- 
jacent island of Nonnenworth ; the frowning fortifi- 
cations on the rocky eminence of Ehrenbreitstein, 
opposite Coblenz ; the black perpendicular rock of 
Lorelei ; the castle of Stolzenfels, the possession of the 
crown Princess of Prussia ; and, the most exquisite 
spot of the whole river, Rheinstein. This has been 
fitted up for the summer residence of the King of 
Prussia, and is the most charming of green nests, 
perched upon the crest of the rock, and adorned with 
all the rustic beauty that wealth and taste could 
bestow upon a position of great natural advantages. 

Hatto's Tower still stands as a warning to those 
who would oppress the poor, although I believe plain 
truth exonerates the prelate from the odium of the 
legend. But what respectability can cope with a 
popular legend? The "pale waves of Nahe" empty 
into the Rhine just below "dear Bingen," and the 
blue Moselle debouches at Coblenz. Beyond Bingen, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 143 

the abundant rain and the dimness of early evening 
prevented our seeing any thing except the quite unin- 
teresting villages that cluster upon the banks. 

We found Mayence a very German city; what 
motive, even in the rudest times, could have induced 
such narrow, tortuous lanes to erect themselves into 
streets, it would be difficult to conceive. 

We went to the Museum and the Dom Kirche, or 
Cathedral. The former contains an extensive collec- 
tion of Roman altars and other curious antiquities 
found in the neighborhood of Mayence ; a large num- 
ber of pictures, some very good ; an astronomical 
clock ; a model of the stone bridge which Napoleon 
projected for the Rhine, and an unusually extensive 
collection of zoological specimens. The Cathedral 
differs from any other that we have seen. It has two 
choirs and two cupolas. The eastern choir dates back 
as far as 900 A. D. ; the other, of the twelfth cen- 
tury, looks as fresh as if just completed. Its win- 
dows are very beautiful. The old choir contains, 
among several ancient tombs, the sepulchre of Fas- 
trada, the wife of Charlemagne. The Dom has a 
fine exterior effect, and crowns the city with a some- 
what imposing magnificence. 

The garrisons of the Austrian and the Prussian 
powers seem to be the most important considerations 
of the city. Ten thousand troops are quartered 
here, and overshadow the common citizens, forming 
one fifth of the entire population, and proving an 
institution far from peaceful. 



144 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

In crossing the river to Castel, we observed, as we 
had done at several places farther down, a row of 
boats, anchored withont any apparent purpose in the 
middle of the stream. We found them to be mills 
for grain, the wheels turned by the current alone. 

Sept, 4. From Mayence we went to Wiesbaden, 
the beautiful watering place and resort for both 
foreigners and natives. It is a lovely place, and 
every appliance is added to render ^t inviting. The 
gardens and public walks are delightfully laid out, 
and the Kursaal, the great point of attraction, is a 
splendid place. 

It is a succession of elegant halls and saloons; 
some intended for music, some for reading, some for 
lounging and conversation, but most of all for the 
great business of the place, the gaming tables. It 
was a deplorable sight to watch these tables, filled 
with men — to the honor of the sex, there were few 
women — deliberately casting wealth and honor on 
the chances of a ball. I could only think of the 
anxious hearts hidden beneath the well-tutored coun- 
tenances. The polite officials of the police were 
every where at hand, to check any external demon- 
stration, but they could not subdue all the expres- 
sions of feverish interest at the turn of the wheel. I 
breathed more freely in the open air. The gardens 
of the Kursaal are elegant and spacious, and the ad- 
joining colonnades are filled with displays of all 
tempting merchandise. 

The hot spring boils up from a fountain near the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 145 

baths. Its temperature is 160° Fahrenheit, and it 
tastes like weak chicken broth. After proving its 
properties, we drove through wide smooth avenues 
to the Greek chapel, which commands a view of 
Wiesbaden. It is a monument chapel to the first 
wife of the Duke of Nassau, and contains her tomb, 
with a beautiful portrait effigy of the Duichess in 
Carrara marble, by Hofgard of Biberich. 

The royal lady was a niece of the present Czar, 
being the daughter of the Grand Duke Michael. 
She died at the age of nineteen. The chapel is a 
perfect gem, filled with small exquisite paintings by 
Nef, of St, Petersburgh. The dome is in gilded 
frescoes, and the reading desk is overlaid with 
enamels, representing scenes in the life of our Saviour. 
The chapel is very small, but perfect of its kind, and 
its gilded domes form a conspicuous object from a 
distance. From Wiesbaden we came to Frankfort, 
just too late to assist at the congress of crowned heads. 
I trust they did not suffer seriously from our absence. 

Sept. 5. Frankfort. We first visited, the Cathe- 
dral, which, however, offers little of interest beyond 
having been the scene of the coronation of the Ger- 
man emperors. We ascended the tower, which we 
reached by three hundred and eighteen steps ; and 
at the top, what was our surprise to find the dome 
inhabited by a family of six persons. The effect of 
finding household avocations going on in such an 
eyrie was ludicrous. The appearance of the family, 
however, was not that of people lifted above the 



146 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

cares of common life ; and the master repudiated the 
suggestion of my friend that he must be nearer 
Heaven than his neighbors. He is the fireman, and 
is stationed here, ready for alarm. 

I looked over the battlement as he spoke of his 
little children, and thought, with a shudder, of the 
celerity with which my Young Americans would be 
sure to make the descent if they were denizens of 
this airy abode. The tower commands a fine view 
of the Maine, and the villages and mountains in the 
distance. 

We drove through the principal streets of the city, 
and our coachman, although unable to speak any 
thing except German, was very intelligent, and more- 
over, much interested in doing the honors of his city. 
All sorts of traffic seems to be carried on in the streets, 
and it was a mystery how the driver managed to 
thread the narrow ways among the throngs of brittle 
wares upon the pavement, without causing extensive 
destruction. 

It is pleasant to meet the kindly looks and friendly 
greetings which you are sure to receive from the 
people here. In the Koss Market, an open space 
near our hotel, is a group of statuary, representing 
the three great prophets of printing, Faust, Guten- 
berg, and Schoffer. A fine statue of Goethe stands 
in another square, and at its foot lay a fresh garland, 
and another hung over the door of his own house^ 
The seeming incongruity of the German in the ab- 
stract, and the German as individual, is a continual 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 147 

puzzle to me ; the one full of poetry, music, and the 
spiritual ; the other of beer, smoke, and the physical. 
Imagine garlands at the foot of a statue in an Ameri- 
can city, or their remaining unmolested if placed 
there — like Mrs. Glass' hare, it is necessary first to 
imagine the statue. 

We drove through the Jews' quarter, within which 
that unhappy race was once severely restricted ; even 
locked in at eight in the evening ; saw the birth-place 
of the Rothschilds there, and, in quite another atmos- 
phere, their bank and house. The mansion of the 
great ruler of empires wears no unusual pretension, 
and the bank looks very little like an institution for 
the control of Europe. I do not believe that the 
suburbs of Frankfort are surpassed in any city in the 
world. The environs are a succession of elegant 
edifices, surrounded by extensive and tasteful gar- 
dens, all giving evidence of great wealth and high 
cultivation. Rothschild's gardens are open to respect- 
able applicants, but the recent rain prevented our 
taking advantage of the privilege. The city seems 
quite surrounded by a park, or circle of public 
gardens, and long avenues of trees form a continuous 
arbor through some of the streets. It was a great 
surprise to me to find so much that was beautiful at 
Frankfort. 

We visited the Roemer, where is the Kaiseraal, 
the place in which the emperors were elected. Here 
was a banquet hall, whose walls were covered with 
fine pictures of all the emperors, each with his Latin 



148 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

motto. Some of these mottoes were very striking ; 
I should like to know whether they have been be- 
stowed in modern times as characteristic, or whether 
the emperors were gifted with such mental insight as 
to select always a sentiment significant of their char- 
acter and fortune. A banquet was held in this room 
during the late royal congress. 

We visited Bethmann's Museum, a private gallery, 
open at certain hours to the public, to see a fine statue 
of Ariadne, by DjS>nneker. It is a great work of art. 
Afterwards we went to the Staclel Museum, more es- 
pecially to see Lessing's splendid picture of Huss' De- 
fence, which seemed to me faultless. It is much more 
of a study than the Martyrdom of Huss. The figure 
of the pleader, and the countenances and attitude of 
his tribunal, are in themselves a history ; and there is 
visible in the whole picture the rare art of portraying 
the expression of mixed motives and emotions, which 
shows the artist to have been a profound student of 
human nature. The coloring is in itself a fascination. 
There were many fine pictures here, which tempted 
us to linger beyond the limits possible to our visit ; 
two in particular, the Wise and Foolish Virgins, and 
a country scene, in which a peasant has evidently 
been killed by falling from a tree, and his family and 
neighbors are grouped around him. This is of the 
Dusseldorf school, and veiw expressive. Visiting one 
of these continental picture galleries is like entering 
an enchanted palace; a' spell is upon you, and it 
needs some external necessity to force you away. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 149 

Sept. 6. We came on to Heidelberg through a 
hilly, sometimes mountainous wine country. The 
hills are terraced, with a wonderful amount of labor, 
for the roothold of the vine. A part of the way 
from Frankfort, the interval grows Yery wide, and 
here re-appears the Holland gardening, such as we 
saw in Belgium. Many ruins crown the peaks of 
the hills. The population seems not to be spread 
over the country, but always gathered into villages, 
after the fashion of the times when it was necessary 
to seek the protection of walled towns at night. 
Labor seems to be mainly performed by hand. 
Sometimes one sees a team, consisting of a pair of 
cows, curiously fastened by their horns, and harnessed 
to a plough or cart ; and occasionally a horse team 
appears. 

Heidelberg is nestled in one of the most attractive 
spots in this mountain region. The Neckar, a pretty 
but shallow stream, winds among the hills on its way 
to the Rhine, whose course we trace in the distance 
by the range of mountains that skirt the western 
horizon. The scenery around the town is charming, 
but the ruins and park of the castle of Heidelberg, 
throw all other points of interest in the shade. 

The castle itself, a ducal possession of 1522, is of 
ornate architecture. The facade of the three fronts 
still standing, exhibits elaborate carving, and num- 
berless sculptures still remain in perfection. It was 
evidently an abode of royal magnificence, far exceed- 
ing even the grand ruins of England. It is only a 



150 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

hundred years since it was struck by lightning and 
partially consumed. A part of the towers were 
blown up during an attack by the French, I do not 
know at what particular time. 

The material of the beautiful building is a soft 
red sandstone, permitting much elaboration of archi- 
tecture. The broad terrace which still remains with 
its entire balustrade, commands a lovely view of hill 
and vale, river, plain, aud distant mountains. The 
ivy mantles the walls with a luxuriance such as we 
have seen no where else, and hangs in graceful fes- 
toons and long streamers of tender green from every 
shattered tower, and crumbling parapet. 

But the vast extent of the castle park and gardens 
affords as much interest as the ruins themselves. 
Broad avenues, winding shady paths, turfy banks, 
tangled glades, craggy descents, tinkling fountains, 
still dark pools, smooth green lawns, and stately 
trees which have withstood the storms of three hun- 
dred winters, are among the elements which make 
up the beauty of this ro}*al domain. 

The old moat is a perfect bower. Tall trees have 
grown up within it; its walls are hung with tapestry 
of ivy ; mosses spread their carpet beneath the ■ 
thicket, and long ferns wave their plumy foliage 
beside the fountains that still well up from hidden 
springs, and waste their bright waters in these lonely 
recesses. I envy the inhabitants of Heidelberg, who 
may explore at will the beauties of this magnificent 
estate ; and I think, were I the princess of the land, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 151 

I would make the castle of Heidelberg once more 
the envy of crowned heads. 

We attended the English chapel here, and were 
glad to hear the familiar service in a familiar tongue. 
This evening, have taken a walk along the shaded 
avenues of public promenade, and looked at the 
University. The town looks very German, and 
sounds more so, but I could imagine a residence here 
to be a very pleasant condition of life. 

Sept. 7. We rose at half-past five, to ensure a 
long day at Baden Baden, where we hoped to meet 
a friend. Arrived there at half-past ten, and found 
all the world assembled for the great continental 
races. We made our way through the broad, wind- 
ing street to the Conversation House, and break- 
fasted at the elegant restaurant attached to the 
establishment. The whole affair, besides being the 
resort of invalids and fashionables, is the great 
gaming house of Europe. The Conversation House 
is another edition of the Kursaal in Wiesbaden. The 
Drink Hall is a splendid building, into which the 
water is conducted from the spring for the accommo- 
dation of visitors. There is a magnificent colonnade 
adorned with frescoes along its front, which is as- 
cended by a broad flight of steps running along its 
entire length. 

Baden is a charming nook, fit for the resort of 
Dryads and Oreads, embosomed in a tiny green val- 
ley, which is completely encircled by high and pictu- 
resque mountains. 



152 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The pretty stream of the Oos runs through its 
midst, guarded by ivied walls, along which are seen 
pretty lawns and flower gardens. The public prom- 
enades are beautiful, and to-day were crowded with 
people in elaborate costume. Indeed, the place is 
more rigid than a court in the exactions of fashion. 

The Grand Duke has his summer residence here, 
in what is called the New Palace, in distinction from 
the old castle, which is now visited as noticeable 
ruins. They looked very high from our position at 
the foot of the hills, and we declined the ascent, the 
more readily that we perceived donkey riding to be 
the approved fashion of accomplishing it. We were 
also rather disappointed at not finding it practicable 
to ascend the Staufenberg, or Mount Mercury, from 
which may be had a fine view of the valley ; but it 
looked even higher than the castle, so we concluded 
to go to the races instead. But upon making inquiry 
in regard to a conveyance to the course, we found 
the price beyond the most imaginative conception; 
and having nothing at stake, and our York admira- 
tions not being entered, we remained in the charming 
little town, and strolled about the paths, and watched 
the display of dress and equipage. Of the latter 
there was every description, from the splendid coach 
and four, with two postillions, to a machine like a 
hayrack, filled with chairs; all equally bound to 
the races. 

We made an ineffectual search for our friend : it 
was no time to enquire for any one, and the police, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 153 

who could probably have satisfied us, were guarding 
the public peace at the course, and the bureau was 
deserted. It was a great disappointment. We had 
been looking forward to this meeting with the interest 
of real friendship, and were completely baffled. We 
came reluctantly to the conclusion that our friend 
had already returned to his distant home towards the 
Pacific ; and wended our way to the station. On the 
way we encountered another party of friends of 
Great Eastern memory, and left them with regret, on 
their way to Heidelberg. 

We came again into the beautiful valley of the 
Rhine, and crossed the river into La Belle France, 
from Kehl to Strasbourg. We have enjoyed our 
glimpse of Germany, but cannot regret it, with Swit- 
zerland before us. 

Sept. 8. We visited Strasbourg Cathedral this 
morning, and ascended the spire as far as the first 
platform, half-way to the top, and two hundred and 
forty -five feet from the ground. There we found an 
esplanade of considerable extent, with a dwelling, 
containing several rooms, upon it; the unoccupied 
space is surrounded by a high parapet, and has stone 
seats and tables, for the convenience of those who 
sometimes make parties of pleasure here. At one 
end of this space is a circular tower, enclosing a 
room of perhaps twenty feet in diameter ; and just 
outside this tower, rises the tall, slender, open spire, 
which seems almost to vibrate in the strong breeze. 

A curious fancy it seems to live in a steeple, but 
11 



154 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

tastes are not to be gainsayed ; and the view of the 
Rhine, the city, and the surrounding country as far 
as the Yosges mountains, is splendid. At this point 
we discovered that in order to finish the ascent of the 
spire, it was necessary to have applied to the Mayor 
and presented our passports. It was difficult to see 
of what possible interest it could be to the city dig- 
nitaries, whether one should go up two hundred and 
forty-five, or four hundred and ninety feet into the 
air, but a second climb was not to be thought of, and 
we consoled ourselves with the reflection that the 
difference in the extent of view could not be worth 
the additional fatigue. Nevertheless, we had con- 
ceived a fancy for making the ascent of the highest 
construction in the world ; but I have since learned 
that the open ranges of stairs against the pierced 
spire, are considered dangerous. 

The Cathedral is magnificent; the windows among 
the most gorgeous of all specimens of stained glass. 
There are some fine monuments in the choir, but 
the great curiosit}^ of the church is the famous clock, 
an astronomical construction showing the relative 
position and magnitude of the heavenly bodies, 
the sun and moon, the real and apparent time, 
the ecclesiastical calendar, the zodiac and its signs, 
and has upon its top, among other devices, the 
figure of Christ, and below it one of Death. A 
dense crowd was assembled to see it strike twelve. 
At noon a tiny figure glided from a recess, and 
struck the four quarters with a little hammer upon a 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 155 

bell. Then Death struck twelve with his dart upon a 
shield ; the twelve apostles passed before the Saviour, 
with a reverence which he acknowledged by a ges- 
ture of benediction towards all except Judas ; and a 
large cock, perched upon a pillar at the side, flapped 
his wings, swelled his feathered throat and crowed 
three times. At the conclusion of the last crow, all 
present must leave the church, and the doors are 
closed. 

From Strasbourg to Basle the country is very 
beautiful. The broad Rhine valley is always pic- 
turesque, fertile in vineyards, and encircled by grand 
hills, upon whose peaks continually appear either 
ruined castles or stately chateaux, with their villages 
at their foot. The river is wider here than farther * 
down the valley, and, taking the whole length from 
Basle to Cologne, waters a country of wonderful 
beauty. At Basle it is a broad, rapid .stream, and 
the city is beautifully situated on both banks, which 
are connected by a fine bridge. 

We have taken a walk this evening along the quiet 
promenade by the river bank, and tried to realize 
the journey by which we have come to the heart of 
the Ehine land; the country of legend and song ; the 
great highway of Roman and Teuton, of Crusader, 
Knight and King ; the disputed possession of all the 
later agitated centuries down to the days of the great 
Napoleon ; still wearing the footprints of the Roman 
tread and' the tokens of feudal force ; still pouring 
wine from her sunny hills, and harvests from her 



156 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

smiling lap ; and, amid all the changes of political 
life, still guarding with quiet conservatism, in her 
quaint cities and her peculiar peasant life, the habits 
and fashions of centuries ago. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 157 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SWITZERLAND. 

Basle — Lake of the Four Cantons — Rigi — Sarnen — Brunig Pass — Meiringen 
— Rosenlaui — Brienz — Interlachen — Lauterbrunnen — The Staubbach — 
Thun — Berne — Lake Leman — Geneva. 

Sept. 10. Yesterday we left Basle and the lovely 
Khine. We took an early walk across the river, 
which is here a broad rushing stream, spanned by a 
fine stone bridge, and sweeps in a large crescent 
through the town. We paused to admire the con- 
sideration for rest and enjoyment, which has placed 
seats in recesses retiring from the footwalk of the 
bridge, where one may sit and enjoy the charming 
scene from its best point of view. 

Nothing gives such fine effect to a city as a broad 
river in its midst. It is the only way to get a proper 
distance for its important buildings. The great chasm 
of the Norloch, between the two cities at Edinburgh, 
performs the same office there. You feel that you 
comprehend a town when you have attained such a 
point of view. 

The streets of Basle are narrow, winding, steep and 
densely built, and afford little of attraction to the 
stranger's eye ; but we found our inn a very peaceful 
and comfortable caravanserai, nothwithstancling its 



158 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

• 

ferocious appellation of Black Bear, which looks still 
more carnivorous in German. 

Nothing can be more unlike our idea of a hotel 
than such as this ; stone halls, stone staircases, bare 
floors, single beds with a feather bed for a counter- 
pane ; and, withal, an artistic cookery and nicety of 
detail not always to be found in our very pretentious 
establishments. We have been much pleased with 
the hotels of Europe ; in all* the essentials of comfort 
they are carried to a point of great perfection. 

The railway to Luzern passes through a most 
charming country, fertile and cultivated in the plains, 
the undulating hills clad with vines, and the distant 
mountains foreshadowing the glory of the coming 
Alps. The Vosges is no mean range in itself, and 
makes a distinguished background for the rich variety 
of the scenery below. 

We passed from the Rhine valley to the basin of 
the lake by long tunnels, of the same massive 
masonry that we have found to admire from Wales 
to Switzerland. Long before we reached the lake, 
the majestic summit of Pilate towered up to the 
heavens, and the Rigi lifted its stately Kulm in the 
summer sky. With what language shall I describe 
the unfolding of that leaf in my memory upon which 
is written — The Alps. 

The lovely Lake of Lucerne lies embosomed 
in an irregular valley, encircled by vast ranges 
of mountains, whose countless, sharp, jagged peaks 
rise from the very margin of its blue waters, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 159 

and glitter in the sunlight far up in the dome of 
heaven, or veil themselves in clouds. 

Mont Pilate, the tremendous peak that rises di- 
rectly above Lucerne, is a mountain of most irregular 
outline, far surpassing any other within range of the 
eye, being six thousand eight hundred and forty-one 
feet in utmost height, and the lower peaks scarcely 
less. 

On leaving Lucerne, the lake makes a long reach to 
the left, at the head of which lie the small towns of 
Sempach and Kusnacht. Passing this seeming out- 
let, and rounding one of the mighty columns of the 
mountain, we reach Weggis, a small village at the 
foot of the Eigi. 

Here we landed, and took horse for the top of the 
grand mountain which seemed to overhang us, while 
its long ranges of bare precipice terraced the green 
slopes which lost themselves in the upper distance, 
and seemed to the inexperienced eye to form the de- 
sired summit. We learned the mistake in due time. 

The path up the mountain is a very good one, and 
might, for a part of the route, be scaled by wheels. 
The ascent wound through, every variety of way; 
first by the cultivated fields under embowering trees ; 
then through the mowed land and pasturage ; some- 
times on the verge of a wooded upland, sprinkled 
with wild flowers, and strewn with huge masses of 
the conglomerate rock of which the mountain is built. 
And every where we turned to gaze upon some new 
charm in the bewildering scene. 



160 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

At first, as we ascended, the beautiful lake opened 
to view, with, the great mountain promontories jutting 
into its waters, but as we rose higher and higher, the 
lake lost its attractiveness in the mighty vision that 
bes;an to be unfolded. 

Peak after peak shot up behind the nearer summits 
that shut in the lake, until the vast distance was 
peopled with the countless throng, some sombre with 
their garb of pines, some clad in eternal snow. Then 
the eye grew accustomed to the higher level, and 
took in a new horizon at every step. I cannot 
imagine any thing more grand than the continual 
revelation of that majestic scene. 

By the time we had gained half the ascent, we 
had ceased to be charmed with the verdure of the 
nearer hills, and the pretty habitations that nestled 
under the shadow of the rocks, "where scarce was 
footing for a goat," and were wrapt in the solemn 
grandeur of the sea of mountains that crowded the 
whole amphitheatre of the horizon. It is worse than 
useless to attempt to describe it. 

When we had scaled the face of the precipice 
which concealed the summit from the foot of the 
mountain, we found that we had accomplished one 
half the ascent. 

The rock formation here is very singular, being 
conglomerate, not too densely massed, and lying 
heaped in huge fragments of fantastic form. In one 
place the path led through a natural arch, formed by 
the piling together of these fragments of the moun- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 161 

tain ; some of them I think not less than a hundred 
and fifty feet high. 

For the last third of the way, the trees mostly dis- 
appear, but the vegetation remains a green close turf 
to the very top, which is over five thousand five 
hundred feet high. 

The latter part of the way lies along the verge of 
the precipitous descent to Lake Zug. Turning the 
back upon the vast forest of the Alps, one looks 
down upon the exquisite beauty of the valley; at 
that height it seems a miniature picture of landscape. 
Midway between Kusnacht and Immensee is a con- 
spicuously white spot, which proves to be the chapel 
of William Tell ; for this is the Lake of the Four 
Cantons ; and Lucerne, Uri, Schwitz, and Underwald, 
are classic ground for the hero or patriot. 

The way was enlivened by many groups of trav- 
ellers, riders and pedestrians, both ascending and de- 
scending ; and swarmed with peasants, mostly girls, 
carrying heavy burdens of supplies for the summit, 
in baskets upon their backs ; all quick with the cour- 
teous greeting and smiling aspect which belongs to 
this part of the world ; and, lest we should forget 
that " peculiar institutions " exist in some form every 
where, the unfailing mendicant was stationed at 
every resting-place. 

Girls with smiling pertinacity offered fruits and 
drinks, and troops of return horses, with guides, and 
empty chaises-a-porter, met us at every winding of 
the path. 



162 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

As we climbed the last third of the way, the sultry 
day was exchanged for a chill, cloudy evening, and 
the wind swept across the narrow neck which we 
were pursuing, with a wintry blast. It was evident 
that the angry clouds would swallow up the desired 
sunset. Nevertheless, it was a glorious scene. On 
one side the mighty Kulm fell down to Lake Zug, 
with such sharpness of descent that one might almost 
drop a pebble into its waters. Lower mountains 
masked the view of Lake Zurich, except for occa- 
sional glimpses among the hills. On the other side 
ran the long green passes between the several peaks 
of the Rigi, and lines of travellers dotted the threads 
of path from Arth and Goldau. Far to the south, 
lay a thousand peaks, slowly veiling their lofty heads 
in the mists of evening. 

And here, at this apparently inaccessible height, 
are three large hotels. Sitting at a luxurious dinner 
in the handsome saloon, surrounded by all the appli- 
ances of advanced civilization, piano and all, it was 
difficult to believe that nine long miles lay between 
us and the level of every day life ; and that all the 
luxuries and comforts of such an establishment, had 
been brought to this remote spot by the toilsome 
steps of patient peasants. 

No nationality seemed unrepresented in the assem- 
blage of the dining room ; and one caught a very 
good idea of what Babel might have been. 

We went to bed, prepared to make an early sortie 
to behold the majesty of the rising sun ; but that 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 163 

dignitary refused to be made, any longer, a spectacle, 
and we beheld, instead, the rain — unwelcome sight 
— shutting out all view of hill and valley, and 
making chillier even the chilliness of early morning. 

If there were Babel over night, what should 
be styled the confusion of tongues at the moment 
of departure ; landlord, waiters, porters, guides, trav- 
ellers, all speaking in unknown tongues, with none 
to interpret ; each guest anathematizing his bill 
after the peculiar fashion of his own country. We 
had the assurance of the guides that we should 
find better weather farther down ; so we set forth 
upon the toilsome descent. Some courageous pedes- 
trians followed ; among them two ladies, who arrived 
before us, worse for mud and rain. Meanwhile, it 
rained, at first gently, then pouringly; we halted 
for a time under the friendly shelter of a chapel 
roof — one of the countless shrines of this land, but 
it presented no attraction as a permanent abode, 
and the weather gave no token of amicable purpose, 
so we emerged once more into the deluge, and 
trooped downward. The path along the direct face 
of the precipice, which is accomplished by striking 
it obliquely, is steep but good, and it seemed in- 
credible, on looking back at the mighty barrier, that 
we had scaled it without wings. 

All things have an end, and so had the descent; 
we arrived at Weggis, little the worse for wear, and 
quite ready for breakfast. About eleven, the clouds 
having discharged their contents and departed, we 



164 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

embarked for a tour of the lake : and such a tour I 
do not believe can be made upon any other lake in 
the world. 

We were borne along at the foot of the mighty 
ranges, each turn of the meandering lake revealing 
new grandeur in the upper world, and new beauties 
in the soft green slopes below. 

Some of the mountains are dark with pines to 
the water's edge, while some are dotted with chalets, 
and green with pasturage to the very top. Several 
villages skirt the lake. Among the largest are 
Gersau, Brunnen and Fluelen. 

The first mentioned is an unusually pretty village, 
embowered in fruit trees and chestnuts. It is some- 
what remarkable, even among Swiss villages. For 
four hundred years this tiny corner of the world ex- 
isted as an independent government, until 1798, when 
the rapacious hand of France, for which nothing was 
too great to assail, nothing too small to grasp, 
swept it into the vortex of the political gulf, and it is 
at present like the rest of Switzerland, under the 
confederate government. 

Among its other curious customs of many years' 
existence, is a beggars' fete ; when for three days in 
the year all the beggars from the country round are 
gathered to a feast by the firesides of their more for- 
tunate neighbors. 

At Brunnen, the extreme end of Lake Lucerne, 
upon a house beside the water, are painted figures of 
the three patriots, Werner Stauffacher, Arnold Melc- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 165 

tal and Walter Furst ; and also two figures engaged 
in mortal combat, with the inscription, "Schwitzer 
est vainqueur de Swen et fonde Schwytz." 

From Brunnen the lake thrusts out an arm called 
the Lake of Uri, and becomes still more remark- 
able for the beauty of the waters, and the majesty 
of the mountains. 

The defile which encloses the lake is narrower, and 
the peaks higher. At a great elevation to the right 
is Rutli, where stands a chapel, marking the spot 
where the three patriots met, in the solemnity of the 
early morning, to swear the oaths of liberty ; and 
from that spot are said to have welled up three 
springs, to which pilgrimage is still made by the 
believing. 

On the water's edge at the left of the lake, is a 
chapel ornamented with various commemorative de- 
signs, marking the place where Tell sprang to the 
shore, and sped the fatal arrow to the heart of the 
tyrant Gresler. 

The waters of the lake are here eight hundred feet 
in depth, and wear the peculiar green which I have 
noticed below the Falls of Niagara. 

Busy workmen are engaged in hewing a grand 
road out of the face of the rock, hundreds of feet 
from the water, and have already constructed tun- 
nels through several projecting points. It will lead 
by St. Grotthard into Italy. 

The end of the navigation is Fluelen, whence one 
can look down the lake still further to the narrow 



166 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

pass which closes the view. It is the present way to 
St. Grotthard by Altorf. 

On the opposite side of the lake the mountains 
rise to the greatest height — Uri Kothstock being 
over nine thousand feet high, and npon its distant 
brow we could discern a shining glacier. The 
whole sweep of the range upon that side of the 
lake is very high, and scarcely broken by a descent, 
as is frequently the case upon the other side. The 
return to Lucerne by the same route only deepened 
the awe which the Alps inspired on the first view. 

Upon reaching Lucerne, we took another boat for 
Alpnacht, en route to Meiringen and the glacier of 
Eosenlaui. We came on to Sarnen for the night, 
but alas ! the sound of the renewed rain augurs ill 
for a mountain pass, unless the clouds should be ex- 
hausted by morning. 

Sept. 15. We were wakened early by the tidings, 
that, as the upper mountains were covered with 
snow, there was promise of a pleasant day ; the giant 
peaks serving as a barometer for the commonalty. 
So we put ourselves in trim for the day's travel, and 
left Sarnen by carriage. 

The two pretty and intelligent daughters of our 
host, who were also the servants of the inn, were 
among the best specimens of native women that we 
have seen. They spoke French and German equally 
well, and English tolerably, and were as modest as 
they were intelligent. 

The dress of the women in this region is peculiar. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 167 

The mode of dressing the hair in Underwald, is by 
braiding it with thick white ribbon or cotton ; it is 
worn at full length, or wound around the head and 
fastened by a pin nearly a foot long, with a flat head 
about two inches square, set with glass or stones. 
They wear what we call Swiss waists, with snowy 
underdress, and short stiffly starched white sleeves, 
with closely fitting black velvet sleeves, reaching from 
the elbow to the wrist. The back of the waist is 
finished with a broad square collar, ornamented at 
the corners with silver; and from a hook in the collar 
depends, upon each side, a silver chain which fastens 
another hook in the side of the bodice. The head 
is bare, or covered only with a handkerchief tied 
under the chin. The broad-brimmed straw hat be- 
gan to appear below Lake Brienz. But this costume 
is far more picturesque upon a pretty American girl 
than upon these sun-tanned, weather-beaten women, 
who bear heavy burdens upon the back, and dig, 
and mow, and rake in the fields, and draw heavy 
carts, like oxen. We rarely see a man in the fields ; 
they are acting as guides, porters, drivers and waiters ; 
but it makes one melancholy to see the complication 
of labors laid upon womanhood here. I have not 
seen a single peasant woman with even the remains 
of attractiveness or femininity about her. They 
look harder and coarser than the men, and their un- 
ceasing industry becomes almost painful ; the babies 
and the knitting are ever at hand to fill up the inter- 
vals of harder labor. 



168 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Our road to Meiringen was through the valley 
of Sarnen, and over the Brunig Pass, a grand gorge 
through the mountains. On the right are the lakes 
of Sarnen and Lungern, and in the distance the 
Lake of Brienz. A superb carriage road winds up the 
long pass, on one hand skirting closely the s shaggy 
sides of the mountains, and on the other, overhanging 
the green meadows and scattered cottages of the 
valley. How green such a valley can be, is known 
only to one who has seen the Alps. The short thick 
turf is perfect* emerald, and has a look of velvet 
smoothness which no carefully kept lawn that I ever 
saw could attain. JSTo fences break the long swell 
of the meadow, watered by clear rushing streams 
from the mountain springs. 

The cottages, precisely like the fancy cottages of 
the toy shops, are built of wood, fancifully carved ; 
the roofs are of wood, crossed by long strips of 
board, held dowa by stones. There is usually a 
carved balcony running along the second story, 
covered with flowers, ivy, or dried corn, and on the 
Geneva side with grapes. Altogether they have the 
most temporary, unsubstantial effect, and seem little 
adapted to the long cold winters of Switzerland. 
Indian corn began to appear in these valleys. The 
mountain formation is very remarkable. On the 
upper side of Lake Lucerne it is a mass of conglom- 
erate, easily disintegrated, although I have been told 
that at the very summit of the peaks the metamor- 
phic rock peeps out. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 169 

On Lake Uri the bald face of the rock is gnarled 
and twisted into every variety of gneisitic contortion, 
intermingled with the later stratifications ; and here, 
in the Brunig Pass, we found the same thing, the 
outcrop striking at every conceivable angle, and the 
rock a fine, compact, igneous stone. 

So far as I have observed, the same formation pre- 
vails throughout the range, with sometimes a mix- 
ture of slate, sometimes of clayey strata, and very 
seldom a slight appearance of quartz ; on the Wetter- 
horn the hornblende is streaked with distinct veins 
of smooth white quartz. 

As we toiled up the. long high Pass, we found 
a varying scene of wild grandeur and romantic 
beauty. The last hour of the ascent is up the 
Kaiserstuhl, a sharp climb to the south, overtopped 
by the three great snowy peaks of the Wetterhorn, 
which looked down upon us from above the clouds. 
As the heavy sky which had overhung us all the 
morning began to break, we looked up, hoping to 
catch once more the clear blue of heaven, and where 
we expected to find it, loomed out great masses of 
rock and snow, almost in the very zenith ; and still 
farther on appeared the Wellhorn. These immense 
mountains are on the left of the valley of Meiringen, 
and are the chamois mountains of the Bernese Alps. 

After reaching the summit of the Pass, we took 
the mountain on our right, the scarped, rugged rock 
rising perpendicularly above our heads, in some 
places a thousand feet, and gradually impending over 

12 



170 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the road, until at one angle the huge mass had been 
tunneled, and the road passed directly under it, while 
the enormous boulder far overhung the valley beyond. 

On the left, the mountain fell precipitately to the 
valley ; indeed the whole splendid road is carved 
upon the very face of the mountain with incredible 
labor and expense. 

On the opposite side of the valley, through which 
the milk-white torrent of the Arvc rushes foaming 
to the Rhine, rise the majestic heights of many 
solemn peaks, few of whose names I find it possible 
to retain. 

The Engelhorn is directly opposite, and here and 
there, at each change of direction, appeared the sum- 
mit of a new wonder. Beautiful eascad- sleap down 
from the long curtain of mountain which faces the 
valley; among them is the Oltschibach, and, finest of 
all, the Reichenbach. 

The descent to Meiringen is sharper and shorter 
than the ascent from Lungern. and we found our- 
selves about two o'clock at the hotel of the Wilder 
Mann, arranging ourselves for a trip to the glacier of 
Rosenlaui. 

It rained a little, but we were assured that the 
road was perfectly good, "a little steep, perhaps," 
which was true without the perhaps. A worse 
road I never saw, not indeed, quite perpendicular, 
piled compactly with large, closely massed trap rocks, 
set mostly on edge, with an occasional boulder, of a 
height to make even the trained animals pause to 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 171 

consider the mode of ascent, and their riders to cogi- 
tate the probabilities of the return. 

After gaining, in this way, a considerable elevation, 
the way ran along the verge of the gorge of the 
Reichenbach, a deep torrent which roars against vast 
aceumulations of boulders and fragments that ob- 
struct its course. At about half the distance up, the 
beautiful fall of the Seilerbach projects itself in two 
chutes a distance of a thousand feet, into the Reich- 
enbach. At a short distance above this fall we came 
upon a veritable Alp, that is. a wide, green pasturage, 
high up on the table of the hills. 

Large herds of the peculiar cattle of Switzerland 
were feeding here, with flocks of goats, and the un- 
failing chalet perched itself in the nooks of the 
rocks. It is astonishing to see upon what a height 
these summer resorts are built. Scrutinize what 
mountain you will, and, at any distance below per- 
petual snow, there will be sure to peep out the tokens 
of a human dwelling. In these airy nooks the Swiss 
watch their herds and make their cheese, and on the 
approach of winter they drive the milky mothers 
down to the cottages of the valleys. 

The cows are handsome ; their hair has the fine- 
ness of a fur ; they are of a light dun color, and, 
as a distinctive peculiarity, their long projecting ears 
are filled with long white hairs. Their hoofs are un- 
even in length, and are twisted crosswise at the 
division, from the constant necessity of keeping 
footing upon a sharp acclivity. They are the riches 



172 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

of the Alps, and show the care with which they are 
tended. The horses, on the contrary, are lean, coarse 
animals, and far from fleet. It was curious to watch 
the feeding of the horses on the way to Brienz. At 
Tracht out came a man, armed with a huge loaf of 
bread, which he cut into bits alternately, for the 
horses, whose avidity for the morsels showed their 
appreciation of the civilization of cookery. 

To return to Kosenlaui ; the rain deepened to a 
pour, with an interlude of hail, from which the dark 
mossy pines only partially sheltered us. Bat it 
seemed befitting the sombre cleft of the wild moun- 
tains, whose savage fastnesses we were penetrating, 
and it had nearly ceased when we crossed the Keich- 
enbach and dismounted. Here were the ever present 
guides, with the very uninviting chaise-a-porter. It 
seems to be the impression of the natives that foreign- 
ers lack the ordinary use of their faculties while upon 
a journey, and though the object of your trip may 
lie within your reach, you are supposed to need a 
guide for " explications," and the intensity of your 
enjoyment of Nature is often sorely marred by the 
irritation. At the present time we declined the privi- 
lege of being borne upon the shoulders of officious 
attendants, and climbed the stony paths, which were 
now only the bed of trickling streams. One perti- 
nacious guide followed, awaiting some opportune 
disaster which should render his presence desirable. 

As we crossed the deep chasm of the Weissbach, a 
boy stood with heavy stones poised upon the slender 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 173 

rail of the bridge, ready to launch them into the 
abyss at our approach. The silence which awaited 
the sullen thud of their arrival at the bottom, showed 
an immensity of depth, and the eye sought in vain 
any glance of water in the darkness below. 

We scrambled on up the wet, slippery paths, 
stumbling among the gnarled roots of projecting trees, 
to a second gorge of the same stream, crossed by a 
frail little bridge, suspended between the smooth per- 
pendicular sides of a very suggestive chasm. The 
approach to it was by a short ladder, and up the 
narrow ascent on the other side in the same way. 
The plank was narrow, covered with sleet, and de- 
fended by a single rail. However, it was the only ap- 
proach to actual insecurity that I have found in 
Switzerland, where I had dreaded so much. "We 
crossed in safety, notwithstanding, and before us 
hung the glacier, white as a drift of newly fallen 
snow. Its upper part was shrouded in clouds, so that 
we coulcf get no proper idea of its height, which is 
twelve hundred feet. We ascended by steps cut in 
the ice to a crevasse, which has been artificially en- 
larged into a passage about thiily yards long. Its 
extremity is hollowed into a circular chamber, 
whence one can watch the effect of the light upon 
the crystal mass. It becomes a deep blue wherever 
the light penetrates the cracks, and the entire arch of 
the cavern was of the color of a twilight sky. This 
glacier is remarkable among its fellows for its unvary- 
ing purity, the flinty formation of the adjacent 



174 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

mountains sending down no discolored debris, > We 
emerged with a shiver, to be greeted by a considerable 
fall of snow, and having refreshed ourselves at the 
little cabin near the glacier, we commenced the re- 
turn. That we were hopelessly wet spared us the 
trouble of any attempt to care for our garments, nnd 
we launched ourselves down the steep at full speed. 
That wet could become wetter I learned by measuring 
my length in one of the temporary brooks. After 
crossing the Wiessbach, I turned aside to explore the 
banks of the profound depth, but was warned to re- 
treat by the ice which encased every blade of grass. 
How the dwellers upon these dangerous heights escape 
disaster and destruction I cannot well comprehend, 
yet little children play upon the verge of the preci- 
pices and torrents, apparently without any especial 
protection. The chalets often rest upon slopes, 
where it would seem that an unguarded step must 
prove the step between us and death. 

The shadows of the mountains were grown very 
sombre, and the two grand peaks of the En gel horn 
and the Wellborn, between which lies the glacier, 
frowned heavily upon the way, while the Wetterhorn 
and the Faulhorn kept guard upon their ^ sides. 
Nevertheless the shadowy ride down that long ro- 
mantic pass beside the foaming torrent, sprinkled by 
the spray of the silver cascade, and shut in by those 
tremendous mountains, was delightful, even though 
the streams from our garments dripped from the 
stirrups. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 175 

By the time we had reached the steep rocky de- 
scent it was nearly dark, and the path, bad enough 
by daylight, was not to be thought of on horseback, 
so we dismounted, and the horses went on, sliding 
and jumping down the way, as we trudged carefully 
downward, sometimes varying the craggy path by an 
excursion to the mud of the adjoining meadow. We 
had a mile or two of riding after reaching the foot, 
and were glad to find dinner and fire awaiting our 
arrival, with which, being refreshed, we spent the 
evening in pleasant chat in the travellers' room, ex- 
amined the treasures of wood carvings, and went to 
sleep to the roar of the Eeichenbach: 

The following morning was beautiful, and we came 
on by carriage through Brienz to Interlacheh. As 
we left Meiringen, the great glacier overtopped the 
mountain, glistening in immaculate whiteness in the 
morning sun. 

The road along the lake was charming, with 
meadows even greener than any we have yet seen, 
and the fall of the Giessbach here shot into the lake 
with a distant roar, which seemed unaccounted for 
by the size of the fall. We left the carriage at 
Tracht, and walked on beside the sweet lake, to linger 
upon the fair picture of creation spread before us. 

The rugged mountain curtain, studded with peaks, 
still guarded the valley, but receded to a little wider 
interval from the turbid Aar, leaving a smiling valley, 
sloping to the southern sun, and rich in all the charms 
of Alpine beauty. 



176 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

At Interlachen the great monarch of the Bernese 
hills, the Jung Frau, rose white with eternal snow. 
and the Silberhorn spread a snowy shroud upon 
its upturned face, like the still covering of some 
gigantic dead. 

The immense height of this range renders its dis- 
tance inappreciable, and it seems within a pistol shot 
while at a direct distance of eighteen miles. I longed 
to put away the curtain of the dark, pine-covered 
mountains in front, and look upon the King in his 
majesty. 

The village of Interlachen is one of those spots, rare 
as they are charming, in which exquisite beauty is 
combined with grandeur and solemnity, and it is the 
one centre from which radiate the most desirable 
Swiss excursions. 

We drove to Lauterbrunnen to see the Staubbach 
fall, and to get nearer to the Jung Frau, as we could 
not go to Grindelwald. The mountain seemed still 
farther off than at Interlachen. The Staubbach is 
pretty, hanging like a misty veil from the crest of 
the mountain ; the water, falling from such an im- 
mense height, becomes dissipated into vapor, and 
seems scarcely to possess a substance ; but the very 
respectable brook which it forms, proves it to be a 
real stream. 

One of the most noticeable features of the trip to 
the Staubbach was the ingenuity with which the 
demand was continually made upon the purse. One 
went at each step prepared to spring a mine. No 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 177 

face of cabin was so innocent that it did not fly open 
at our approach, and disclose the peculiar wares of 
the country ; ingenious carvings in wood, bone and 
ivory, tempting displays, both for beauty and utility. 
Then there were prints of the surrounding views ; 
children followed us with a bench for our repose, or 
croaked a jodel for our edification, while others, with- 
out pretext, demanded tribute. It was ludicrous to 
see the anxious speed with which every individual 
within the range of vision hurried to make merchan- 
dise of the unwary traveller. As we approached the 
corner of the lane leading to the fall, a boy hastened 
to place the long Alpine horn by the wayside, and 
brought echoes from the hills which might have 
seemed the voices of the wood-nymphs, reverbera- 
ting in musical notes, again and again, from the 
narrow strait. 

We had twelve applications during the ten minutes' 
walk between Lauterbrunnen and the Staubbach, 
and at the stopping place there were nine guides, all 
desirous of pointing out the fall, which was mean- 
while directly before our eyes. 

We spent the Sunday at Interlachen, and each 
hour added to our admiration of the spot. I could 
fancy no more delightful place for a summer abode. 
One may make the wildest excursions into the heart 
of the Bernese Oberland, and return to enjoy the 
sweetness of plain, stream, and valleys, and all the 
appliances of luxury and repose. 

We followed the crooked, winding street through 



178 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the village to the bridge across the Aar, whence there 
is a comprehensive view of all that is grand and 
beautiful in scenery ; from the snowy summit of the 
majestic Jung Frau and the darker mountains of the 
nearer range, to the sweeping river, with its verdant 
banks and picturesque mills, and the pretty dwellings 
dotting the vallev. 

The drive to Thun is only another edition of these 
sweet valleys ; and the sail down the lake was very 
delightful. Conspicuous above the other mountains 
of the region, the gigantic pyramid of the ISTiesen 
overhangs the lake ; the banks are cultivated, and 
tasteful dwellings appear frequently. 

Thun itself is very beautiful. The steamer passes 
a narrow entrance between an elegant villa on the 
left, and on the right, a hill slope, covered with 
line buildings, and crowned by a chateau and a 
handsome chapel. The narrow inlet is, I believe, still 
the Aar, and the steamer enters beyond the power of 
turning. Here we landed from the crowded little boat ; 
not even the Rigi afforded a more complex nationality 
than the deck of that little steamer. English, Amer- 
ican, French and German tourists, peasants and Swiss 
soldiery all hurried off to the station ; among them 
our unlucky selves, supposing the aforesaid place of 
departure to be in immediate proximity to the pier, 
when it proved to be a mile away. 

We came by rail to Berne, where we spent the 
night, but did not remain to explore the city of 
Bears. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 179 

From Berne again by rail, through an increasingly 
picturesque country, to the beautiful town of Lau- 
sanne, where we embarked for Geneva. I can do no 
justice to a sail down Lake Leman, its blue waters 
guarded by the Alps on the south, and the long- 
chain of the Jura on the north. A fertile, highly 
cultivated country alternates with handsome towns 
and stately chateaux upon its banks. Coppet, the 
residence of Madame de Stael, is on the northern 
bank ; also the chateau of Prangins, once the posses- 
sion of Joseph Buonaparte, now of the Prince 
Napoleon. 

Just before we reached Geneva, a distant, snow- 
capped chain of peaks began to dawn upon the eye 
— and there was Mont Blanc. 

At a distance of more than fifty miles, it seemed 
little farther off than did the Jung Frau at Inter- 
lachen. Nothing else could engross the sight after- 
wards; the eye was ever seeking that mighty domain 
of ice and silence. 

The view of Mont Blanc from Geneva is very good. 
Here the Ehone, which enters the lake below Ville- 
neuve, rushes out again in a deep blue rapid stream, 
very different from the green depth of the Bhine. 

I think Geneva must prove a charming residence, 
uniting the climate of the mountain country to the 
pleasures of cultivation, and directness of access to 
the great world every where. 

We drove out to Ferney, the residence of Voltaire. 
It is a most favorable exhibition of French garden- 



180 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ing, and one cannot but wish that he had confined 
his genius to horticulture, and had not touched the 
profound depths of the spiritual life with an unhal- 
lowed hand. "We were shown his bedroom and 
saloon, in the same state as when he occupied them. 
In a stone urn in the saloon is preserved his heart, 
according to his own direction. 

A fine full length portrait of Catharine of Russia, 
a present from the Empress herself, hangs over his 
bed. The garden is still preserved in his own design. 
An arbor, several hundred feet in length, beautifully 
trained in beech, and a tall hedge enclosing the 
grounds trimmed in the same arbor-esque fashion, 
are kept as they were in the days of the noted owner. 

The environs of Geneva are pretty, but seem tame 
after the grandeur of the past week, but we are look- 
ing forward to Chamouni and Mont Blanc. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 181 



CHAPTER IX. 



SWITZERLAND. 



Chamouni — La Flegere — Sources of the Arveiron — Tete Noire — Martigny 
— Pierre a voir — Brieg — Simplon — Domo d'Ossola — Lake Maggiore — 
Arona. 



Theee is little to say of the way from Geneva to 
Chamouni, although it is a most interesting route to 
remember. We made the journey by diligence, the 
day hot, and the way dusty. The road leads from 
Geneva, at first up a steep ascent, through a well 
cultivated country, and fields blushing with the col- 
chicum; then it becomes gradually wilder and 
steeper; winding up sharp passages above deep 
gorges, through which flows the white torrent of the 
Arve. One soon learns to distinguish the glacier 
rivers by this peculiar whiteness, owing, perhaps, to 
the impalpable dust of the rocks, ground to powder 
in the attrition of the glacier. In eating the clear 
glacier ice, I sometimes found the sand remaining 
abundantly in the mouth. 

One never ceases to wonder, upon this route, at 
the thought of the mighty convulsions whose traces 
are scattered so thickly along the course, in the huge 
fragments of every form which have been detached 



182 ways i dp: sketches. 

from the impending mountains. The whole valley 
below is evidently at times overflowed by the stream, 
for all along its now confined bed lie vast accumula- 
tions such as are heaped up only by the progress of 
mountain torrents. The scene in the spring when 
the icy fetters of the waters are first loosened, must 
be worth seeing. 

Just before reaching the village of Sallenches, we 
exchanged the heavy but comfortable diligence for 
light carriages, as the journey is too difficult to be 
performed farther by large vehicles ; and even these 
carriages we were forced to abandon at some of the 
precipitous ascents. 

A bridge over the Arve, built upon a double set 
of arches, is one of the finest specimens of masonry 
I ever saw. 

The same features of scenery continue ; the vast 
mountains grow higher, their rocky faces more pre- 
cipitous ; the gorges narrower ; the hum of conver- 
sation grows hushed, and the awe of the savage 
solitude gathers over us beneath the darkening sky ; 
the stream roars more madly over its obstructions, 
and finally, in the vista of the narrow defile, rises the 
pure white summit of the "sole sovereign of the 
vale/' Mont Blanc, like Niagara, needs time to 
allow one's mind to grow up to the recognition of 
his mighty proportions. I think these are more truly 
appreciated at the distance of Lake Leman than on 
a nearer approach. But his height is best appre- 
hended by being viewed from some great, though 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 183 

inferior elevation in his neighborhood. In truth, the 
first view of the great mountain from his foot is dis- 
appointing, especially after having been imbued with 
the poetic descriptions, which lead one to seek its 
summit almost in the heavens. The air is so clear, 
and the mountain so enormous in its proportions, 
that it seems neither so very high, nor at any very 
impracticable distance. 

Then one's own stand- point in the Valley of Cha- 
mouni is six or seven times higher than the Palisades 
on the Hudson, and the mind fails to add the height 
of an entire day's journey upwards to the remainder 
of the mighty mass. 

Sept. 18. We spent the jiight at a hotel in full 
view of the mountain, and it seemed higher in the 
morning. There are many excursions to be made 
in the neighborhood ; the usual one, unless the stay 
be protracted, is to the Mer de Glace, by way of the 
Montanvert, across the glacier, and a return by the 
Mauvais Pas and the Chapeau. There were two 
objections to this excursion in my mind. Upon the 
Mer de Glace there is no view of Mont Blanc itself, 
and the return is by a difficult and fatiguing walk 
along a path which must be rugged and dangerous 
indeed, to deserve, in these regions, the name of 
Mauvais Pas. 

So by way of combining a coup d' oeil of the 
mountain with a visit to the great glacier, I chose 
the ascent of La Flegere, and a return by the sources 
of the Arveiron. La Flegere is upon the opposite 



184 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

side of the valley from Mont Blanc, live thousand 
eight hundred feet high, and intensely steep. The 
narrow path is forced to double continually upon 
itself, making at each detour a small angle by which 
the mountain is finally scaled. 

For the first hour we oscillated upon the face of a 
bare hill, apparently not more than half a mile in 
length, mounting, by slow gradations of the flinty 
path, at right angles to the general direction of the 
mountain. We then made a sudden turn to the right 
and plunged into a wood, which shut out the sur- 
rounding views, while it afforded a grateful shelter 
from the hot morning sun. There was still the same 
slow alternation of advance and retrograde ; the path 
from being only stony, became rocky and difficult. 
At one point it crossed a pretty mountain stream, 
where there is a rustic bench for the rest of the wea- 
ried wayfarer. 

About half the way up is a pavilion perched upon 
a projecting knoll on the side of the mountain, where 
the views of the valley begin to assume appreciable 
proportions. I think the height of a mountain is 
best comprehended at such a stopping place. You 
take in the distance already attained, and that still 
before you, at the same glance ; while at the foot or 
the summit, the great distance obliterates the detail 
by which you measure. The path attains a still 
more direct steepness after leaving the pavilion, and 
clambers among the rocks and bared roots with an 
irregularity and difficulty which demands continual 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 185 

attention to the proprieties of horsemanship, and 
made even the mules give signs of a determination 
to retreat. We had a model of a guide; careful, 
attentive, genial and polite. Henri altogether sur- 
passed any attendant that we have ever had, and 
seemed, besides, altogether innocent of the rapacity 
of his class ; receiving gratuity or refreshment with 
a well-bred modesty rare to behold in these regions. 

The view, when the top of La Flegere is once at- 
tained, is worth any fatigue. The vast body of Mont 
Blanc is spread out like a picture, with the long 
parallel ranges of mountains that form its sides filled 
with enormous glaciers, from which flow the various 
tributaries which finally pour their waters through 
the Arve to the Rhone. 

The great Needles point skyward as if they would 
pierce the heavens. Above all, farther off, and higher 
than when seen at its foot, rises the serene, immacu- 
late front of the "great Hierarch," pure as if newly 
dropped from the skies, and seeming to bid defiance 
to all stain of human approach, as indeed he does — 
for although the rashness of adventurous spirit some- 
times plants a footstep in these sublime solitudes, the 
lone monarch hastens to obliterate its traces with his 
icy breath, and suffers no human power to fix land- 
mark or pathway in his solemn abode. 

The height of La Flegere reveals an immense ex- 
panse, entirely hidden from the village by the inter- 
vening peak, which seems to be filled with pure crys- 
tal ice; the blaze of the sun showed its transparency 



186 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

even at that distance. This is what is called the 
Grand Plateau ; it had something appalling to me, so 
calm and cold in its defiance of human skill and re- 
search. In full view from our point of vision were 
the glaciers of des Bossons, d'Argentiere, du Tour, 
and the mighty Mer de Glace, which at its lower ex- 
tremity takes the name of du Bois. 

The Mer de Glace presents a slope of several miles, 
filled with tall pyramids and blue crevasses, then 
grows apparently smoother up to the point of diver- 
gence between the branch which turns to the right, 
toward the Col de Geant and that which leads to the 
Jardin. The latter is a spot of green turf, surrounded 
by eternal snow, at a distance from the valley of nearly 
nine hours. The guides assert the length of this 
glacier to be, in all, eighteen leagues, but eighteen 
miles seem more credible. 

We were unfortunate in not being aware of an 
ascent of Mont Blanc while we were at La Flegere, 
as from its summit the party may be watched with 
glasses. Just as we reached the valley on our return, 
a cannon announced the arrival at the Grand Mulets, 
the cabin where the first night is passed by the as- 
piring traveller. The next morning the terrible jour- 
ney is made over the icy way to the summit, and the 
descent accomplished to the same point, where the 
second night is usually passed, although some ener- 
getic travellers return to Chamouni the second day. 
The danger of concealed crevasses, the intense 
cold, the toilsome way, the painful respiration, and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 187 

the oppressive sense of hunger, all combine to render 
this one of the most dreadful excursions ever under- 
taken, under the pretext either of pleasure or advan- 
tage. And when to this is added the fact that the 
view, under the most favorable circumstances, is 
limited to the sight of the most elevated mountains, 
and that the length of stay at the summit can be 
prolonged to little over a quarter of an hour, it would 
seem that " the game would not pay for the candle." 
Two guides, at least, are necessary to the ascent, (the 
first attempt was made with seventeen,) and porters 
are needed to carry food, fuel, wine, and garments for 
the night ; the cost is not less than a hundred dollars 
for the guides alone, and varies for the entire trip 
from three to five hundred. 

Meanwhile we are resting at the top of La Flegere. 
The descent of a steep mountain, upon horseback, 
with a side-saddle, is extremely fatiguing, and having 
found a mule a very different affair from a horse, I 
inferred the propriety of making a part, at least, of 
the downward journey on foot ; so leaving guide, 
mule and companion behind, I set forth. 

The footpath may be made a little shorter than the 
bridle road, but the great steepness renders it imprac- 
ticable to diverge much from the beaten track ; a 
slight misstep in traversing the short cuts between 
the zigzags generally sufficing to bring down upon one 
an avalanche of rocks which have a precarious hold 
upon the side of the mountain, and crinoline is emi- 
nently adapted to secure all the chances of such mis- 



188 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

haps. Then, too, a very promising divergence is not 
unlikely to end in a thoroughly impracticable preci- 
pice, and the steep way is to be retraced. 

The exhilaration of that free mountain air renders 
walking a perfect pleasure, and I had no mind to ex- 
change it for the mule, so kept on to the valley, stop- 
ping to chat by the way with the sprightly mistress 
of the pavilion, whom I encountered at the pretty 
resting place where the stream overflowed the road. 
I rested at the bottom, and watched the caravan of 
mules and footmen trailing its slow length along the 
tortuous descent ; then remounting, we took our way 
across the valley to the foot of the great glacier. A 
ride of about an hour brought us to perhaps the most 
beautiful sight of the whole region. The Arveiron 
gushes in a foaming torrent from a vast arch in the 
clear solid ice, brawling over the great rocks dropped 
from it, in its slow but steady onward march. It is 
an enjoyment of which I should be never weary, to 
watch the outpouring of that tide from the heart of 
that frozen sea ; ever and anon whirling down a huge 
fragment of ice, or booming with the plunge of some 
loosened boulder from the arch above ; then rushing 
away down the valley with the joy of sunlight upon 
its bosom, to mingle its white waters with the whiter 
Arve. 

There is something appalling in the desolation of 
the moraine at the foot of the glacier. The plain is 
encumbered for many rods with enormous masses of 
rocks, immense boulders, and vast heaps of sand. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 189 

ground to powder by the fearful attrition ; while far 
up lie the same huge debris, brought by the great 
silent river from the rocky fastnesses above. A forest 
of pyramids clusters in the distance, and occasionally 
a tall needle topples over in sudden but noiseless 
prostration. 

The glacier has retired many rods within the 
memory of living inhabitants, furnishing an illustra- 
tion of the theory that glaciers are steadily retreating, 
leaving their terminal moraines as foundations for 
the inhabitation which is gradually pursuing them to 
their citadel in the savage heart of the mountains. 

We scrambled across the lateral barrier, and made 
our way with difficulty along a rough surface very 
little like ice, except where we paused to brush away 
the sand, or to dislodge a stone from its bed to assure 
ourselves of the presence of the crystal beneath. It 
was very toilsome, and the tall pyramids were a long 
way off, and I satisfied my curiosity with gazing upon 
them at a distance, while my companion, a young 
English lady, went on with the careful guide, and 
looked into the dark blue crevasses, and explored the 
glacier to her satisfaction. 

I sat, meanwhile, wrapt in the hurrying river, the 
shadowy cleft of the lower valley, and the spotless 
peaks whose afternoon splendor was yielding to the 
soft glow of sunset. 

We entered a grotto in the foot of the glacier, 
which differed from that at Eosenlaui in its utter 
darkness, due, I suppose, to the accumulations of 



190 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

sand above. It was lighted by lanterns, which sent 
a starry reflection from the dripping walls. The 
whole excursion occupied seven hours. 

We have had delightfully clear weather at Cha- 
mouni ; not a cloud dimmed the rosy light of sunset 
upon Mont Blanc, and his snowy summit cut a clear 
outline against the depths of the early sky as I looked 
out to catch a glimpse of the first dawn upon his 
"bald awful head." 

Sept. 19. A memorable day was the one on which 
we made the passage of the Tete Noire. The distance 
is twenty-four miles, and we sent forward the mules 
to Argentiere, and took carriage to that last station 
for wheels. The morning was cold, and it was long 
before the sun of the upper world visited our path. 
But we fortified ourselves with a meagre breakfast, 
and mounted. I have been assured by eastern trav- 
ellers that the motion of a mule is worse than that of 
a camel, and I can readily believe it. Fortunately 
they only walk, however level the road; but the 
most complicated problem in my mind at present, is 
this : Given, a mule and a mountain ; required, the 
amount of possible dislocation. 

The road across the Tete Noire is a very good one ; 
for the most of the way to Trient practicable for 
wheels, except for the narrowness of the road. So 
far as the Tete Noire rock the way is wonderfully 
wild, hemmed in by dark, rocky mountains ; one of 
these is the abode of innumerable eagles, which keep 
the inhabitants of the neighboring village in continual 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 191 

terror, as they have been known to pounce upon 
little children and bear them away to their inacces- 
sible eyrie. 

The path becomes narrow, rocky and steep as it 
leads up to the height of Les Montets, the dividing 
point of the tributaries of the Arve and Ehone. 
From this summit the road leads along the Eau 
Noire, a dark, clear, deep stream, into a defile con- 
tinually narrowing and deepening. At a sudden 
turn in the way Henri faced the mules about and 
exclaimed, "Adieu! Mont Blanc!" There indeed, 
in the sharp close of the vista formed by the long 
ranges of mountains on either hand, rose, fair and 
solitary, the immaculate crown of the mighty mount, 
grander and more beautiful by being deprived of the 
accessories which served to diminish his height as 
seen from the foot. 

We turned ever, with lingering gaze, so long as 
any part of the spotless outline was visible against 
the clear blue sky, and then plunged into the recesses 
of the savage defile. The path cut the edge of a 
gorge, whose depth was measured by endless tiers of 
tall pines, and at the bottom roared the foaming 
stream, fretted into a thousand falls by the opposing 
rocks, the mighty droppings of the overhanging 
mountains. I do not know whether it may be the 
effect of excitement, or that one learns implicit faith 
in guide and mule, but the sense of danger seems 
dormant while one gazes down from the unguarded 
edge of a path, where you may drop a pebble, almost 



192 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

from your stirrup, a thousand feet into the depths 
below. A slight rail served to give an appearance of 
security to the path at an angle of the mountain 
where it projected far over the precipice, then by a 
sharp turn we passed under the arch of a tunnel, hol- 
lowed through the solid battlement of rock ; here 
rose the tall, black, dripping face of the Tete Noire 
rock, on which the sun never shines. 

This was the culminating point of the wild gran- 
deur of the pass ; that, for which, if for nothing else, 
the passage should be made. A few minutes brought 
us to the hotel of the Cascade, situated upon a point 
of rock which commands, at one glance, the wild- 
ness and grandeur of the pass from which we had 
just emerged, and the beauty of the leaping cascades 
upon the other side of the chasm. 

Here the mules were to rest for an hour and a half, 
and having taken a lunch, we walked on through the 
magnificent fir forest of Trient, where continual 
streams came trickling down the mountain side, and 
mosses, ferns and flowers bordered the way. Even 
here we found the heather. 

As we turned, at last, the base of the Tete Noire, 
the valley opened from the forest along the banks of 
the now quiet river, into fields of some cultivation ; 
where, as usual, we saw only women toiling at the 
hoe and scythe, and bearing home upon the back, in 
heavy burdens, the product of their labor. 

We walked on through the sheltered valley to 
Trient, where, as the way seemed to lead up a con- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 193 

siderable ascent, we sat down to await the arrival of 
the mules. 

We had passed the Tete Noire, and, in our happy 
ignorance, fancied that the remainder of the way 
was descent; what was our consternation, when hav- 
ing attained what seemed to be the top of a long 
slope, we found it only the first reach of one of those 
detestable zigzags, by which it seems possible to 
scale the face of any hill, not absolutely perpen- 
dicular. Far above us showed row after row of the 
same pathway ; on we went, right up the mountain, 
each turn seeming still more astounding than the 
last, until we reached the Col de la Forclaz, fifteen 
hundred feet above the top of Ben Lomond. 

But in this world, the penalty of elevation is de- 
scent; and, having got up the mountain, the next 
thing was to go down. At the bottom, as it seemed 
but a bow-shot, lay Martigny, in the broad valley of 
the Rhone, which spread out like a map beneath our 
feet ; but there were, nevertheless, eight mortal miles 
of zigzag between. 

The road, despite the tiresome twists, was beauti- 
ful, but the wood soon excluded the pretty view of 
the valley. As we trooped along, in such meditative 
mood as may consist with a precarious seat upon the 
neck of a mule, a shout from the rear faced us about 
to a tableau at once terrifying and ludicrous; the 
respected head of our party, dismounted beside his 
prostrate beast. The terror lay in the possibility of 
serious harm to the rider ; the ludicrous in the placid 



194 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

air of the animal, who wore the serenity of one who 
has made up his mind. I had remarked his cogita- 
tive manner of stopping to survey certain difficult 
passages of La Flegere the day before, and had 
been amused at the variety of changes rung upon 
" Allez ! en avant ! marchez ! en route !" with which 
each tug at his bridle was enforced; but to-day, 
albeit not a ruminating animal, he had evidently 
jumped to a conclusion, and hence his attitude of 
repose. Fortunately, he had couched himself with 
such deliberation that the rider was able to extricate 
himself from the saddle in time to escape injury. 
Sundry cogent arguments from the baton of the 
guide brought mulet to his feet, if not to his reason, 
and we again slowly wended our way downward. 

As for myself, the point of endurance was passed, 
and I deserted my four-footed friend for my own 
independent locomotion. One plunge across the 
steep interval between the paths put me beyond the 
reach of my lawful guardians, and they shouted after 
me a commission to order the dinner at Martigny, 
while I addressed myself to the downward way. A 
line of flinty pebbles presented itself, crossing the 
successive meanderings of the route, wearing the 
doubtful aspect of either pathway or water-course. 
A countryman assured me that it was a veritable 
path, leading to Martigny, but added with hesitation 
that it was " un peu rapide," which meant, not quite 
perpendicular. I, however, pursued the unpromising 
way — it might sometimes more properly be said to 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 195 

have pursued me, inasmuch as that which is true of 
a part is true of the whole — and after a mile or two 
of sharp exertion, I arrived at tokens of human 
habitation. The descent afterward, although in- 
tensely steep, was delightful. It was a charming 
afternoon ; the free inspiriting mountain air breathed 
like the elixir of life. I deserted the flinty cause- 
way, now for a pretty green orchard, now for a 
velvet meadow ; stopping here and there, to rest 
beside a stream, or to exchange greetings with the 
peasant girls at work in the fields. Now and then I 
encountered the friendly face of a specimen of the 
unmistakable genus, tourist. As the shaggy moun- 
tain descended into cultivation, it became possible to 
look back upon the heights which we had been tra- 
versing, and to catch distant glimpses of the trains 
of riders and pedestrians upon the galleries above. 
On the opposite side of a ravine which seemed also 
to descend from the mountain, came winding down 
a similar caravan from the pass of the great St. 
Bernard. 

I lingered with reluctant steps, even upon the 
fatigue of that long walk, for it led away from Swit- 
zerland and the Alps ; and in that solitary way, I 
realized the intensity and actuality of my enjoyment, 
as one can scarcely do when his perceptions are busy 
with scenery, and his sensations with a mule. 

Presently a village hum floated upward upon the 
breeze ; the whirr of a mill, the creaking of wheels, 
the evening sound of herds, and the voices of home- 



196 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ward bound laborers ; a cheerful, welcome contrast 
to the solemnity of the lonely mountains. 

The village of Martigny is a little, crooked, un- 
couth hamlet, with almost city pretensions, in its 
paved streets and close rows of dwellings. Passing 
through the village, the way to the city stretched 
out indefinitely. I inquired the distance, and was 
answered by the usual formula, "ten minutes;" 
which is, as I believe, to the mind of a continental, 
the only distance less than an hour. 

It was a pretty walk — long trains of low carts, 
piled with grapes, came trailing along the broad 
shaded road, and troops of harvesters, laden with 
their implements of husbandry, paced beside, merry 
with song, and ready with a courteous greeting. Yet 
the lack of intelligence and the distortion of figure 
often visible, is very painful — for the Yalais is the 
especial haunt of cretenism, and goitre displays itself 
as almost the normal condition of the inhabitants. 

A fine bridge crosses the swift Dranse at the en- 
trance of the city, which is unlike any other cities 
which I have seen, in its almost rural aspect. The 
Hotel de la Poste, the proposed bound of my walk, 
proved, of course, to be at the further extremity of 
the city, but I arrived at last, half an hour in ad- 
vance of the zigzagging beasts and their weary 
riders. How weary were all, and how lame were 
some of us, one should cross the Tete Noire to know. 

We found Martigny a very pleasant stopping 
place. The inn had the appearance of having served 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 197 

in some of the past ages as an ecclesiastical dwelling. 
It was certainly very unlike an inn in its long vaulted 
passages and ivied cloisters. The table was better 
than at any other place, city or country, that we have 
found upon our journey. Here, by way of game, 
we had the chamois, not the goats' flesh which has 
done duty in so many places for its wilder brother. 

There was a most enticing peak stretching up into 
the air above Martigny, called Pierre a voir, com- 
manding, it is said, the whole view from Mont Blanc 
to the Jung Frau ; reached by five hours of mule 
— ay, there's the rub. The descent is made to Mar- 
tigny le bourg in three, by means of sleds, drawn by 
men ; a great economy of time and fatigue, but, 
doubtless, subject to excitement in view of the pos- 
sible contingency of a failure in the locomotive 
power, similar to that which attends the railway de- 
scent at the foot of Niagara. However, we did not 
attempt Pierre a voir, but came on to Si on by rail, 
and thence, by a most fatiguing journey in the inte- 
rior of a diligence to Brieg, the sleeping place upon 
the Simplon route. 

In the morning, in lieu of the diligence at five 
o'clock, with the possibility of a place in a lumbering 
omnibus instead, we made a party with a young 
British officer, fresh from the tigers of India, who 
bore still some traces of their familiar acquaintance, 
and took a carriage and four for the pass, leaving 
Brieg at eight o'clock. After six hours of hard 
climbing we still overhung Brieg at the same angle. 



198 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and had not yet turned the flank of the great Grliss- 
hohe, which stared us in the face in the morning. 

The pass of the Simplon is a miracle of engineer- 
ing skill. The route was projected by the great 
Napoleon after the battle of Marengo, and com- 
menced in 1800. It was completed in six years, at 
a cost of more than eighteen million francs. It is a 
magnificent road, from twenty -five to thirty feet in 
width, cut like a thread upon the precipitous sides of 
the mountains; supported by superb masonry, and 
overhanging depths which disclose at every turn 
scenes of the grand and beautiful below; while 
above, the horizon is bounded by the snow-capped 
peaks of the Bernese Alps on the one hand, and the 
rocky fortresses of the Savoy summits on the other. 
The long upward route follows the indentations of 
the mountains, until that becomes no longer possible, 
and then, by a grand curve, it spans the chasm, down 
which the Wiessbach rushes, roaring and foaming to 
theKhone, and begins the difficult dangerous ascent on 
the other side. This part of the road, up to the very 
summit, is swept by avalanches, that continually 
destroy the fortifications, which are as continually re- 
newed. The direct curve, by which the road almost 
returns upon itself after crossing the Wiessbach, gives 
one the whole view of the pass at a glance. 

Along the more exposed portions of the route, the 
road passes beneath immense galleries, constructed in 
heavy arches, opening towards the valley, which 
guard the road from obstructions caused by the fall- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 199 

ing rocks ; and where the face of the mountain 
becomes absolutely inaccessible, the way is hewn 
through the solid rock. Every where, in mid air, 
rise alternately peaks and glaciers ; the streams from 
the latter, shooting, ever and anon, from beneath the 
road, and leaping to join the torrent below. 

One grand cascade from the enormous Kaltwasser 
glacier, is carried directly over the gallery, and one 
sees it through the open arches, falling in a glittering- 
sweep above his head. 

Within the space of one league upon this dizzy 
crest, are six houses of refuge, some of them rendered 
useless from their exposure. 

One often hears of a bird's-eye view. I know 
nothing that so nearly approaches the reality, as the 
vision that lies beneath the eye of one clinging to the 
steep sides of these stupendous mountains. After 
passing the Kaltwasser glacier, the distant view passes 
the great glacier of Aletsch, and reaches the spotless 
peaks of the Bernese Alps. Below lies the profound 
depth of the valley of the Ehone, with the ubiquitous 
Brieg still in full view. On the right, tower up the 
mighty slopes of ice plains, which you approach so 
nearly as to appreciate their immense extent, and to 
have also a shuddering sense of the dangers which 
their steady march hurls upon the exposed expanse 
below. 

The summit of the Simplon. is a sterile, broken 
amphitheatre, between four and five thousand feet in 
height, bounded by dark, rocky pinnacles, and vast 



200 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

glaciers, whose near approach is appreciable in the 
frosty air. Here is a hospice, for the accommodation 
of poor travellers, designed by Napoleon, but com- 
pleted only so late as 1825. 

We stopped for an hour at the desolate village, so 
far removed from all that makes life enjoyable, and 
despoiled the inn of all the supplies of its larder. 

From the summit one passes through the. . valley of 
Algabi to the valley of the Gondo, in which lies 
after all, the wonder of the Simplon pass. Here all 
the elements of savage grandeur seem to be gathered 
in the wildest, vastest, sublimest combination. Here 
are still long galleries forced through the stubborn 
rock ; and stupendous masses of black, fissured, jag- 
ged cliff overhang the road, sometimes at the height 
of two thousand feet. The gorge grows narrower, 
darker, more appalling at every step, and casts all 
previous experience of mountain passes into the 
shade. 

The Diveria, at a fearful depth, hurls itself against 
the mighty fragments, which the convulsions that 
rent this awful gap have cast into the bottom of the 
abyss, and the great cascade of the Alpeinbach pours 
its foaming tribute to the depth. Here you traverse 
the gallery of Gondo, pierced for six hundred and 
eighty-three feet through the angle of the mountain, 
and emerge to the same oppressive seenes. 

The roar and gush of waterfalls, and the beauty of 
the continual silver bands that glisten on the oppo- 
site side of the chasm, relieve in some degree the 



WAVSIDE SKETCHES. 201 

oppressive solemnity of the vast, dark, silent masses 
of rock, towering up almost to shut out the heavens, 
and bearing on their gnarled and distorted brows the 
fiery marks of their convulsive birth. 

The Diveria is crossed by several fine bridges, one 
of which, near Crevola, ninety feet in height, is a 
beautiful structure of two arches, and gives once 
more a glimpse of the profound recesses of solitude 
and gloom from which we have emerged. 

No contrast can be more striking than a passage 
from such a majestic scene as the valley of the Gondo, 
to the soft, smiling landscape which greets the eye a 
few miles farther down the valley. Fertile plains, 
rich with crops of corn, dotted with fruit trees or 
shaded by chestnuts, with here and there glimpses of 
white villages, fill the blue distance, and we sink 
rapidly from the fresh, pure, bracing air of the Alps, 
to the heavy, lifeless atmosphere of an Italian valley. 

We arrived, at night, at the town of Domo 
d'Ossola, (we passed the Italian frontier at Iselle,) 
where we made our first experience of an Italian 
hotel ; and truly, if that pestiferous dog's hole were 
to prove a fair type of the rest, we should soon bid 
adieu to la bella Italia. The rooms were very large, 
floored with stone, or some concrete of a stony 
nature ; the sofas like beds, and the beds like bed 
rooms ; but the house, according to Italian custom, 
was built around an inner court, the windows of the 
rooms opening upon a stone balcony which overhung 
the quadrangle ; and when the court proved to be 

14 



202 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

only a stable yard, with all its paraphernalia and 
occupations, the effect upon a hot summer night may 
be more easily conceived than described. Eager to 
escape from such a den, we took carriage as early as 
possible for Arona, and the drive was like a leaf out 
of a fairy tale. The plain is rich and cultivated ; the 
vine, a plant of low growth in Switzerland and Ger- 
many, is here allowed to twine itself, in all its native 
grace, about the low trees and trellised arbors. The 
magnificent chestnuts spread their broad arms, laden 
with golden balls ; corn stands ripe upon the sunny 
fields, and figs droop beneath their broad leaves. 
Pearly clouds float lazily across the soft, warm sky, 
and one feels indolence creeping over him at every 
breath. 

Yesterday we drank of streams dripping from 
eternal ice ; to-day we scare the lizards from the hot 
wall along the lovely Lake Maggiore. This beautiful 
lake stretches from the foot of snow-clad hills to 
almost tropical verdure. Its blue depth, bordered by 
grand mountains, and studded with the beautiful 
Borromean isles, presents a scene of the most charm- 
ing description. 

We passed, upon our way, immense quarries of 
white and red granite and marble, but as we descended 
to the level plain, we found the lake bordered with 
elegant villas, with every charming variety of garden, 
pleasure ground and fountain, and all that enters rnto 
the most fascinating pictures of Italian scenery. It 
is a favorite summer resort for the rank and wealth 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 203 

of Italy, as well as for foreigners, especially the 
English. The roacl beside the lake is superb, built 
upon massive granite foundations, and edged along 
the lake, as upon the sides of the mountain, with battle- 
ments of solid mason work. We stopped for dinner 
at Baveno, the most picturesque point upon the shore, 
nearly opposite Isola Bella. 

This island is a wonderful instance of the victory 
of wealth and labor over the disadvantages of Nature- 
Here, more than two hundred years ago, the pro- 
prietor, one of the family of Borromeo, built a 
chateau, and caused soil to be transported to the 
barren rock, upon which he built terraced gardens, 
planted with the growth of all climates, fruit, shrub 
and flower. The same design has been furthered by 
the possessors ever since, and the chateau and gardens 
are now the daily resort of travellers. 

We made our journey, still beside the beautiful 
waters, so far as Arona, nearly at the bottom of the 
lake, a pretty place, where we spent two days ; but as 
my own views were limited to the hangings of my 
bed, I can say little of its attractiveness. I lay, with 
the summer air floating in from the lake, and listened 
to the soft musical Italian voices of the children at 
play, or the women at work under my window, and 
was charmed with the liquid utterance which trans- 
forms the stately old Eoman tongue into the loving, 
tender tones of the sweetest language in the world. 



20-i WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER X. 

ITALY. 

Milan — Venice. 

From Arona we came by rail to Milan, a truly 
splendid city, through a country essentially American 
in all its features ; corn and peaches, and even pump- 
kins, reminding us of a fair land many leagues away. 
"We passed through the battle-field of Magenta, seven 
miles in length, and by a field filled with the buried 
heaps of dead. Milan is all alive — for Victor 
Emanuel reviews here the troops of United Italy to- 
morrow. 

Sept. 25. The morning opened inauspiciously for 
the grand parade, nevertheless the streets were beau- 
tiful as a picture. The windows and balconies of the 
elegant buildings were decorated with banners, and 
with scarlet and crimson hangings, and bright with gay 
groups of well dressed people. The pavement was 
thronged with pedestrians, among them remarkable 
the beautiful women, with their graceful head-dress 
of black lace, and, almost as numerous, the priests in 
long black garments and queer beavers. 

The grand cavalcade through the streets com- 
menced about noon, and lasted for two hours. The 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 205 

troops were fine, dark, soldierly men, in the early 
prime of manhood, well equipped and handsomely 
uniformed. Most of the officers, and many of the 
rank and file wore medals which bespoke acquaint- 
ance with active service. The cavalry had been re- 
viewed on Monday at Soma, and these troops con- 
sisted of infantry and artillery. It was altogether a 
striking display of soldiery, and for the number and 
rare beauty of the horses, all apparently in military 
training, I presume it could not be surpassed in any 
country. We saw not less than four thousand, and 
among them were the finest specimens of steeds I 
ever saw. The dainty, delicate-limbed creatures 
seemed to enter into the spirit of the pageant, and 
paced proudly through the thronged streets, as if 
aware of their claims to admiration. Their riders 
wore the military air to perfection. 

The artillery consisted of three hundred and seven 
pieces, officered and manned in batteries of six, each 
piece drawn by five horses, and each caisson by four 
or five. Victor Emanuel, with the royal guard, 
brought up the rear. He is a stout, dark visaged, be- 
whiskered man, and touched his chapeau with grave 
and courteous salute, in return to the acclamations of 
the multitude, as he pursued a tedious way through 
the long streets to the place of review without the 
city gates. Conspicuously, in his immediate com- 
pany, rode a jet black dignitary, evidently of no 
mean rank, attired in a costume as gorgeous as scar- 
let and jewels and broidery could make it; his bear- 



206 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ing among the nobles, quite unconscious of any infe- 
riority arising from color. It was a beautiful picture 
— the vista of the magnificent street closed by the 
wonderful Cathedral. 

Helmets glittered and plumes floated above "the 
tossing sea of steel " that poured its steady tide along 
the crowded way ; and the whole air of the martial 
throng was that of no holiday pageant, but as if com- 
posed of men wonted to conflict, who had faced the 
dangers and wore the honors of deadly combat 

Altogether we felt ourselves to be veiy fortunate 
in having an opportunity of witnessing a parade, at 
once so warlike and so royal — and that, too, within 
the walls of the ancient and superb city of princes — 
Milan. 

There was an undertone running through all the 
pleasure of the display for me. I tried to see it 
through the eyes of one who came back to his native 
city last night, from an exile of forty years. My 
heart was touched with the eager joy of the stately 
old man, as he welcomed the sight of the proud city ; 
for, after forty years' wandering in foreign lands, in 
the restless life of a proscribed man, what could 
remain of the tender ties and intimate friendships 
that make home and country worth having ; and I 
wondered if, to the long exiled, gazing apart at this 
splendid show, the joy or the anguish of the return 
were the keener. 

We have visited the wonderful Cathedral, but 
to my great regret I was obliged to take the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 207 

beauties of the roof at second hand, and was un- 
able to explore half the wonders of the interior. 
There are some remarkable combinations in this 
edifice, which distinguish it from all others. The 
first noticeable feature is, that while it is a structure 
of vast size, its architecture is of such airy lightness 
and grace as to destroy the effect of massive solidity 
which usually belongs to buildings of grand propor- 
tions ; and it seems rather an serial fabric, such as the 
fancy frames of the summer clouds, than a gigantic 
pile, fashioned by the chisel and wrought by the 
hammer. 

Its snowy purity, too, as it sleeps beneath the soft 
blue Italian heaven, charms the eye, hitherto accus- 
tomed to associate dark weather-beaten walls and 
ivied towers, with architectural antiquity. 

Another wonder is, that, while every part of the 
vast edifice is in perfect harmony with the whole, 
each part is finished in a design peculiar to itself, and 
different from ' all its correlatives. From cope to 
foundation, upon column and buttress, tower, flying 
buttress, window, turret, pinnacle and spire, neither 
statue, leaf nor flower is reproduced ; no design re- 
peated. I doubt if another such instance of imita- 
tion of the divine creation, in countless variety, 
subordinate to perfect harmony, can be adduced 
among the works of man. 

I was especially astonished and delighted with the 
exquisitely wrought pierced roof, and still more 
astonished to find afterwards that the whole was a 



208 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

marvellous painting in fresco. The roof is supported 
on thirty- six magnificent columns, whose capitals are 
finished in the same endless variety before men- 
tioned. 

The church is filled with sculpture, some of it of 
colossal proportions. One remarkable statue repre- 
sents St. Bartholomew wearing his own skin as a 
mantle, after having been flayed. 

We were shown into the sacristy, to examine the 
treasures bequeathed to the church by San Carlo 
Borromeo. They are preserved in tall cupboards 
which line the sacristy, and whose massive doors are 
opened by means of a windlass. 

It is impossible to convey any idea of the wealth 
of gold, and silver, and jewels, which is here en- 
shrined ; the Sacristan, of whom we inquired its 
value, said it was many millions, but beyond any 
power of accurate estimate. Great solid gold and 
silver crosses and crosiers many feet in height ; can- 
dlesticks, patens, bowls, books, boxes inlaid with 
jewels; emeralds, rubies, sapphires of a size to make 
one think the Arabian Nights a record of real exist- 
ences ; every device that could be wrought for a 
church dignitary out of the most precious gems of 
the earth are here deposited ; a vast mine of utterly 
unused, profitless riches. One large box has for its 
cover a splendid mass of rock crystal, in its natural 
state, taken from Mont Blanc, bound and cased in 
gold. 

From the sacristy we descended to the crypt before 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 209 

the High Altar, which contains the chapel of Cardi- 
nal Borromeo. The walls, except where they are 
interpaneled with rich hangings, are of solid silver, 
wrought into many exquisite designs ; and pictures 
in alto relievo of silver surround the chapel, repre- 
senting scenes in the life of San Carlo from his birth 
to his beatification. 

They represent him in acts of munificence to the 
poor, for which, indeed, he seems to have been distin- 
guished, if there be any faith in tradition. 

One figure symbolizes his liberality by a cornu- 
copia, out of which is pouring a mass of real silver 
dollars. The great wonder of all is the sarcophagus 
of the saint. It is of rock crystal, pure and transpa- 
rent, from Brazil, the gift of Philip the Second, of 
Spain. Within lies ghastly the embalmed Borromeo, 
in full canonicals, covered with jewels. Across pre- 
sented by Marie Therese is pendent in the coffin, 
made of diamonds and emeralds, and valued at a 
million of francs. The elaboration of the whole 
chapel was a gift of the artists, so that, in calculating 
its value, only the intrinsic worth of the precious 
stones and metals is regarded ; and the chapel is 
estimated at six millions of francs. 

I regretted exceedingly not being able to ascend 
to the roof of the Cathedral — as my friends assure 
me that a nearer view of the statues, and the wonder- 
ful designs of the pinnacles and flying buttresses, 
greatly enhances the admiration of the beautiful 
structure. 



210 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

From the Cathedral we went to see the Last Sup- 
per, by Leonardo da Vinci, in the refectory of the 
Church of Santa Maria del la Grazia. 

The profane have invaded the sacred precincts of 
the church, and the ancient cloisters are now dese- 
crated to the uses of a stable. But the room con- 
taining the picture still remains devoted to its 
exhibition. It is painted upon the wall, and occupies 
the entire width of the room. The figures are almost 
colossal, but their great size does not immediately 
strike one, from their perfect proportion. The pic- 
ture is greatly defaced, but the wonderful beauty of 
the face of the Lord shines fair through all the harm 
that time and restoration have done to the rest of the 
painting, and shows the hand of the almost inspired 
master. What a pity that the great painter could 
not have had a foreshadowing of his own fame, and 
have painted his picture upon less perishable ma- 
terials. 

Sept. 26. Left Milan in the afternoon for Venice. 
Were stopped at Peschiera, a name of which the 
Yankee " pesky " is an undoubted corruption. We 
had counted upon the hour given in Bradshaw for 
rest and refection ; on the contrary, we spent it in 
awaiting the slow progress of the investigations by 
which our luggage was at last declared to be peace- 
ful. The examination was courteously conducted, 
and not unnecessarily minute ; but the use of the 
passports was not quite clear. 

One is in the habit of supposing that peculiar 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 211 

institution to be a means of identifying the traveller 
as the innocent individual accredited by his own 
government to the good faith of all others. That 
view of the subject turns out to be a mistake. 

• The officer received the passports, en masse, on our 
alightiug from the train ; it is the first time that we 
have produced them. After the examination of the 
luggage, a great rush ensued, all the travellers 
gathering as closely, as possible to the counter of 
the pen within which we had been hitherto confined. 
A clerk entered with a huge pile of passports under 
his arm, and proceeded to cry the names thereto 
affixed, to the best of his Italian power. The indi- 
vidual was fortunate who could see his own passport 
as it was 'held up, as he could then interpret thenext 
cry into his own name, and reclaim his property. 

They were, at last, all delivered, duly vised, but 
whether our eyes and noses correspond to the decla- 
ration, or we be adherents of Garibaldi i)i disguise, 
the Austrian government will never know. We 
passed through Vincenza, Padua and Verona, with a 
strange sense of familiarity thrilling us from the old 
Shakspearean associations ; but notwithstanding the 
ciceronean assurances of some of the party, we did 
not see the tomb of Juliet. Arrived at Venice 
about half-past ten, and rowed up the Grand Canal 
in a floating omnibus, which brought us at last to the 
Hotel Victoria, once the Molini Palace. 

I was awakened in the morning by the plash of 
oars, and the sharp warning cry of the gondoliers, 



212 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

as the j rounded the corners of the buildings into 
the various canals. Our windows look upon a narrow 
canal, heavy and green, upon which float all kinds of 
tribute from the Venetian kitchen. According to our 
usual custom we had ordered rooms as low as possi- 
ble to avoid the necessity -of superfluous climbing. 
They were readily accorded us here, but as we were 
ushered up to the fourth story to the dining room, it 
was not so great an advantage as we had supposed. 

We land from the gondola at the threshold of a 
spacious and lofty hall, with marble floor and seats, 
from which open the booking office and the various 
bureaus of such an establishment. A kind of gallery 
runs round the upper part of the hall, with windows 
by which it is overlooked from the first stoty. 

In the conversion of palace to hotel, the spacious 
saloons have been subdivided into bed rooms, eating 
halls, &c, and the fanciful patterns of the concrete 
floors are deprived of their designs by the utilitarian 
divisions. 

We had been recommended to this hotel as being 
upon the square of St, Mark, but except that it is 
built upon the same little island with the square of 
St. Mark, that is a mistake. 

After breakfast, we sallied forth to visit the square. 
By means of a slight balcony that overhung the canal, 
we reached a narrow passage, damp and dirty, very 
like the side alleys by which one may reach back 
entrances in some of our cities. In this, and many 
others, it is possible to touch the walls upon both 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 213 

sides at once. The larger streets are seven or eight 
feet in width, filled with shops, long, dark and 
narrow. 

After turning sundry corners in these dismal lanes, 
we emerged, at last, through an open vaulted court, 
into the veritable square of St. Mark. It has around 
its sides the Church of St. Mark, the Ducal Palace, 
and the public buildings. The Campanile is here ; 
indeed the square is the centre of interest in Venice. 
Long colonnades run round the open space, filled 
with tempting shops, gold and silver work and jewels 
constituting the greater part of the display, and on 
one side are multitudes of cafes. 

The custom of begging by means of merchandise 
is here carried to great perfection. We were pursued 
by most pertinacious venders of articles of every 
description, from the pretty shell ornaments peculiar 
to the place, down to a live mud turtle, the proposed 
use of which did not appear. 

The Church of St. Mark is singularly brilliant in 
effect, albeit it is so unlike ordinary church architec- 
ture, that we were at first in doubt as to its character. 
It is adorned in front with large pictures of mosaic, 
brilliantly colored and gilded. Above the entrance 
are bronze horses, said to be very perfect, which have 
undergone various mutations of fortune, having been 
brought among Venetian spoils from Constantinople, 
carried to Paris by Napoleon, and finally restored by 
the French. The interior of the church is wonderful, 
in being of mosaic from floor to dome. The pictures 



214 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

of the walls, the entire ceiling — in fine all that is 
usually accomplished in ornament by painting, is 
here done by mosaics. The tesselated floor has sunk 
in many waves from the yielding of the foundations. 
Indeed the only wonder is that such heavy edifices 
are not prostrated by the slow sapping of the seas, 
during the ages in which they have poured their 
sluggish tide through the long rows of piles upon 
which they are built. 

This church was erected in the ninth century, and 
was constructed and enriched by the spoils of Byzan- 
tine architecture. The Baptistery, which is the old- 
est part, is entirely Greek ; the font is of porphyry 
upon a marble pedestal. A tomb in the chancel is 
said to contain the relics of St. Mark, brought from 
Alexandria and deposited, with great pomp, in this 
shrine. Behind this tomb are several slender pillars, 
which tradition affirms to have been originally 
brought from Solomon's Temple. A lighted taper 
behind them showed them to be translucent. 

Some of the doors are of Corinthian brass, or, as 
we should call it, bronze, of great antiquity, magnifi- 
cently wrought, not by casting, but by the chisel and 
hammer. These are also Greek spoils. TJiere is 
shown, in one of the chapels, a stone which, as the 
guide related, has the legendary importance of having 
been brought from Mount Sinai. Our cicerone was 
an intelligent person, belonging to the church, and 
was particular in his statements ; and when he re- 
lated sundry traditional miracles, he took care to 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 215 

prefix " the tradition says ;" on being questioned as 
to their authenticity, he shrugged his shoulders in a 
manner which showed that he laid the responsibility 
•of credence upon those of his hearers. 

From the church we went to the Ducal Palace, the 
mysterious seat of the doges, of whom we have read 
and dreamed so much, and, I think, with about as 
much sense of their living reality as if they had be- 
longed to a fairy tale. 

A broad flight of marble steps leads up to the cor- 
ridor, which runs along the front of the palace. 
From that ascends the golden staircase, trodden only 
by sovereigns, at the top of which the doges were 
crowned. We, albeit sovereigns in our own right, 
were shown a plainer way inxo the magnificent halls, 
written, to the spiritual eye, with histories more 
splendid and more dark than crowd the page of any 
other nation upon earth — Kome excepted. 

The walls are covered with the paintings of Tinto- 
retto, Bassano and Titian, fresh and gorgeous as if 
wet from the brush of to-day. They are both alle- 
goric and historic, representing the power and the 
conquests of Venice in her splendid ages, with por- 
traits of all the doges and many senators. 

Besides the grand state apartments, we saw the 
council chamber and ante-chamber, the inquisitors' 
chamber and its ante-room, which sent a chill through 
my blood at the thought of the invisible record upon 
those walls, awaiting the fiery summons which shall 
call it into legible and fearful openness. There were 



216 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

also exhibited the doge's private apartments, all 
adding to their historic interest the unfading lustre 
of art. The Austrian government turns the splendid 
palace to account by making it the depository of a 
library and a museum of art. 

We were attended by a poor old guide, whose 
occupation is evidently almost gone. He paced hur- 
riedly along these charmed halls and lofty staircases, 
restlessly conning, in a whispered utterance, the tale 
of history or explanation which he was to recite at 
the next stage of exploration. 

After traversing the palace we went to the Bridge 
of Sighs, which connects it with the state prison on 
the other side of the canal. It is a closely covered 
handsome stone bridge, high above all possibility 
of scrutiny from below — through the openings of 
whose ornaments, the condemned caught his last 
glimpse of the outer world. 

The business-like haste of the guardians of all 
places of such profound interest, leaves yon no op- 
portunity of surrendering yourself to the spirit of the 
place, and gives you continually a sense of unreality; 
in consequence of which you often enjoy the remem- 
brance of an interesting spot, with a keener relish 
than in its actual presence. 

We returned to descend into the palace prisons. 
One dark narrow cell is styled the " merciful," having 
a pallet, and a window, not, indeed, opening to the 
light of heaven, but into the lighted passages. Here 
the prisoner passed the interval between accusation 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 217 

and condemnation. I doubt if any interval was 
wont to elapse between condemnation and execution, 
we saw no place allotted to it, but a small space 
deeply enclosed by double doors, where secret crim- 
inals were garroted. 

Thank God for the nineteenth century ! I do not 
belong to those who worship an ideal past. 

As the traveller, in gazing at a long range of fair . 
mountains upon the distant horizon, catches only the 
undulating outline of the sunlit peaks, and sees 
nothing of the dark chasms and fearful depths be- 
tween ; so the dreamer, surrounded by the evil and 
folly and pettiness of to-day, turns longingly back- 
ward to the far vision of the centuries, where he 
can dimly discern the splendors of military prowess, 
the grandeur of art, and the magnificence of almost 
fabulous wealth ; forgetting the savage denies of 
crime, and the dark secrets of abomination, and woe, 
and cruelty that cursed the earth through all those bar- 
barous ages, when, wherever the palace rose on high, 
the dungeon lurked below. It is only when one 
looks down from above, that he can take in the true 
proportions of nature or humanity. 

After lunching, as one should in Venice, in the 
open air, we took a gondola for the Academy of 
Fine Arts, on the Grand Canal, where we enjoyed 
a great treat. One never ceases to regret that so 
much of the genius of the great masters was em- 
ployed upon subjects in which we cannot sympa- 
thize. 

15 



218 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

But in looking at such a picture as Titian's 
Assumption, we forget all dislike of the subject in 
admiration of the painting. There is another great 
picture of Titian here, the Entombment; but hetero- 
dox as it may be, I much prefer Rubens' Descent. I 
have no doubt that the highest appreciation of art 
places Titian almost at the head of painters, but I am 
not equal to his pictures, and found far more pleasure 
even in such a picture as Raphael's Julius Second. 
There is a splendid modern picture in the Academy, 
of Nebuchadnezzar Receiving the Prophetic Warn- 
ing of Daniel. 

We left the Academy reluctantly at the hour for 
closing, and spent the afternoon in floating upon the 
Grand Canal, listening to the continual chime of the 
musical bells, and hearing names familiar to the lips 
of the gondolier, which have seemed to us to belong 
only to the realms of fiction. 

We passed palace after palace, once adorned by 
wealth and rank and beauty, but now inhabited only 
by domestics, or let to foreigners ; while their noble 
heritors either suffer forced exile, or endure voluntary 
expatriation in preference to the Austrian yoke. 
The hate of the Austrian rule is very apparent, but 
fourteen thousand Austrian bayonets within the 
decaying city are strong arguments to patience. 

The Grand Canal is three hundred feet wide, 
winding in a serpentine line through the midst of 
the city, and spanned in the middle by the bridge of 
the Rialto. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 219 

We rowed, the next day, about the lagunes and 
among the beautiful islands, of which there are more 
than seventy making up the city. 

The only way to see the beauty of this ancient 
realm, is to recede to such a distance upon the waters 
that the view can take in dome and tower and column 
and palace, the strange picture that "floats double," 
city and shadow, upon the still waters of the Adri- 
atic. And, circling ever about the silent city, it 
seems ever at the same dreamy distance ; and you 
wonder always what may be within its heart, if you 
could only get at it, and what is now the life within 
the walls of the Foscari and the Contari. 

You have always known that it was a city whose 
streets are water, and in which the sound of wheels 
is never heard ; that it is filled with palaces and 
churches, and that the doges held a mysterious fear- 
ful sway within these walls ; and that is all you 
know now, and it seems as much of a dream as ever. 

These dark green waters are as near an approach 
to the wave of Lethe as one will find in modern 
times ; and as you float lazily, amidst the soft breath 
of the Venetian sky, which envelopes you like a bath, 
it is no very easy thing to bring your thoughts to the 
sharp edge of a business world and its every day 
affairs. Nothing about you invites you to do so. 
Boats lie upon the water laden with fruits and vege- 
tables which the owners seem in no haste to sell ; 
others, piled with grapes, go trailing along to the 
wine-press; here is a gondolier fishing, and there 



220 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

another basking at full length in the sun. Nothing 
seems alert upon the waters; and as you watch the 
noiseless dip of the long oar, you feel the Yankeeism 
oozing out at the finger ends ; and grow as dreamily 
indolent as if you were to the man^r born. 

The avocations of the inhabitants are, in no degree, 
of an industrious aspect ; but there is one profession 
there, which seems to me the sublimity of the dolce 
far niente. The stock in trade consists of a slender 
pole, pointed with a rusty nail, usually the posses- 
sion of a squalid old man, who applies the nail to the 
side of your gondola, as it touches the step of the 
pier, and then holds out his unsightly cap for a rec- 
ompense, 

I could fancy Venice to be a far better place to 
visit with a traveller's enjoyment than to live in. 
The canals and lagunes are full of the associations 
of fiction — and they are full of many other things 
also ; and if one had ever harbored the intention of 
suicide by drowning, it is not in Venice that he 
would choose to carry it into execution. 

And then the mosquitoes ! they make night as 
well as the face hideous, and the traveller is fairly 
driven out of the domain of the Queen of the Adri- 
atic by a tiny weapon more potent than the Austrian 
bayonet. 

We left Venice in the soft gray dawn of a cloud- 
less morning. The moon shone full and fair upon 
the deserted waters, as we floated down to the rail- 
way. No sound of step or hum of voice arose from 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 221 

the noiseless city, which slept upon the waves as if it 
had been the city of the dead ; and as we sped along 
the causeway through the sea, we seemed to be 
awaking from some oriental dream, rather than 
" doing " a city in the business-like fashion of the 
nineteenth century. 



222 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER XI. 



ITALY, 



Padua — Bologna — Appennines — Florence — Pisa — Leghorn — The Mediter- 
ranean — Civita Yecchia. 



Sept. 29. We arrived early at Padua, which brings 
up Shakspearean memories, despite our actual experi- 
ence there. 

It was the first time that we had learned the utter 
helplessness of a mute traveller. Not a soul knew 
any thing except Italian ; and as that mellifluous 
language happens to be lacking in the gift of tongues 
with which we are clothed, they had it all their 
own way, and an Italian way is sure to be a bad one, 
so far as order or system is concerned. 

However, one learns language rapidly under the 
discipline of necessity, and we did obtain, even at 
Italian hands, a cup of tea and a piece of bread, be- 
sides a seat in a carriage to Ferrara, We had a note 
of commendation from our Boniface at Venice to 
the landlord of the Croce d'Oro, at Padua, but it 
seemed to avail us nothing, except, perhaps, the 
ensuring us a passage to Ferrara instead of the reg- 
ular stopping at Ponte-lag oscuro. The crossing at 
the latter place was a contrast to ordinary trav- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 223 

elling. The swarm of vehicles brought up suddenly 
from a prosperous journey, at a very Styx; the 
Charons of the rude ferry boats urged their craft 
slowly along the shore, culling their fare from the 
impatient crowds of mingled nationalities upon the 
bank, and rowed us leisurely across the sluggish 
waters of the Po, amid surroundings which seemed 
to have been unchanged for a century. 

The journey was a drive of nine hours, including 
two hours' detention at a wretched roadside inn; 
where dinner was served by a sort of industrious man 
of all work, to whose garments adhered the dust, hay, 
cobwebs, feathers, and odors which denoted the mul- 
tifarious duties of his calling. 

It is impossible for an American to comprehend, 
without having seen, the amount of time, vociferation, 
quarrelling and blunders necessary to get a diligence 
under weigh in this land; to say nothing of the 
" lookers on in Vienna," who have nothing earthly to 
do except to add to the confusion and beg. 

The drive was through a perfectly level country, 
upon a superb road, smooth as a floor, and stretching 
as far as the eye could reach in either direction, be- 
tween rows of tall poplars, bordered by fields of tol- 
erable cultivation. 

The poplar of Lombardy is quite a different affair 
from its namesake on our side of the water, and a 
really handsome tree. The vine, which is here appa- 
rently only an incidental crop, is festooned along low 
trees, forming a kind of hedge about the fields, with- 



224 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

out, however, shading the growth below. The wine 
of the country is harsh and crude, partaking largely 
of the nature of mingled ink and vinegar. 

The cattle are remarkably fine ; large, well-made 
creatures, nearly white, with wide, spreading horns, 
retaining some of the characteristics of their Alpine 
neighbors. 

After the custom of these countries to turn every 
thing feminine to useful account, the cows are em- 
ployed in labor quite as much as oxen. A very good 
type of the civilization appears in a team whose 
motive power is, conjointly, a woman and a cow. 

The women of the peasantry throughout the con- 
tinent strike one painfully; there is nothing womanly 
about them ; they look harder and uglier than the 
men, and it is difficult to see how they could ever 
have been attractive. 

Then, the beggars spring up at every step of the 
way, like grasshoppers. The little child, just able to 
learn the whine of the mendicant; the sturdy lad 
who makes a cartwheel of himself for your especial 
edification, or clings to your carriage step with a 
doleful story about his "povre padre" or "madre;" 
the little girl, who wails forth a forlorn ditty to remind 
you that you are in the land of song ; the mother 
with her baby in her arms; the gray-haired old 
woman who improves the intervals of begging by 
spinning on a portable distaff; the bleared, squalid 
old man, with his greasy cap under your nose ; and 
worst of all, the veritable lord of creation himself, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 225 

who touches the strap of your portmanteau, and 
stands inexorable as fate for something which sounds 
like zecchi ; all hasten to swarm about the doomed 
traveller, as if his only object in travelling were to 
dispense money by the way side. 

It is intolerable, to find your heart growing indif- 
ferent to the tokens of want, or harrowed by the in- 
cessant sights and sounds of a loathsome humanity. 
This beautiful country needs nothing but the people 
to make it smile into Paradise, but at present a sense 
of disgust is interwoven with all that it presents of 
attraction. 

After being ferried over the river at Ponte-lag 
oscuro, to the evident disgust of the commissioner 
who accompanied the long train of carriages, we were 
driven to Ferrara, and interpreting our ticket liter- 
ally, he carried us two miles beyond the railway 
station, which was our proper destination, to the city 
of Ferrara, how degenerate from the splendor which 
the name calls to mind. However, after some vexa- 
tious delays, we arrived safely at Bologna, a very 
ancient city, whose sidewalks run through arcades 
beneath the upper stories of the dwellings. It 
seemed to me to bear a Moorish aspect, and is just 
now remarkable for having been the last place of 
Northern Italy wrested from the papal dominion. 

We had rail from Bologna to Yergato, and thence 
a most charming route, by diligence, across. the Ap- 
penines to Pistoja. The carriages were easy and well 
appointed, and the long cavalcade of diligence and 



226 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

voiture swept along the smooth road like a whirl- 
wind. The road lay along a valley, or in easy undula- 
tion for about half the way, and a railway, in process 
of construction, followed the same route. Then ad- 
ditional horses were attached, and we toiled, although 
still rapidly, up a veritable mountain pass, the same 
splendid road winding through the difficult ways, 
and bridging the narrow gorges. 

The scenery, without being grand, is wild and pic- 
turesque ; the hills often crowned with chateau and 
village, and, even with the Alps by heart, some of 
these were very respectable mountains. 

In this part of the way the railway exhibits 
magnificent engineering. The road makes straight 
through the depths of the mountains by tunnels, 
which are beautiful in their solid strength, and in 
one place is carried over a long gorge upon a set of 
massive arches, which will challenge the admiration 
of many generations. 

Through all this beautiful country, with the tramp 
of Roman legions ringing in your ears, there is the 
same literally running accompaniment, the same 
eternal whine. You cannot give the friendly look 
of recognition which was so heartily returned in 
Germany, for it makes you ashamed of your race to 
find the return only an application for money. We 
have never seen a peasant in the country clad in a 
new, or clean, or whole garment ; as for the children, 
they, happily, do not suffer in this climate by the 
grievous lack of any, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 227 

We thundered down from the hills at a rate like 
the travels of the great Napoleon, and whirled 
through a most beautiful plain, cultivated and orna- 
mented. The mountains had been covered with 
grand chestnuts, the plain was filled with figs, 
peaches, vines and olives. The charming scene 
made one Ions; for the time when the iron heel of 
tyranny and priestcraft shall be lifted from the down- 
trodden head of knowledge and industry, and the 
people and the soil be permitted to develope resources 
which will make Italy the garden of the earth. 
There is much in the soil and productions of the 
country to remind us of our own country. 

From Pistoja we came again by rail to Florence, 
and have been watching the dying tints of sunset 
upon the still waters of the Arno. 

Sept. 31. We made a short tour of exploration 
among the beautiful mosaics of Florence, a work of 
art of which the city is jealously proud — and then 
went to the Uffizi palace. 

It does not become me to speak of the merits of 
such a gallery. I can only mention some of the 
things that particularly interested us ; among which, 
of course, stands pre-eminent the Yenus de Medici. 
It is a wonder of beauty ; the figure and limbs out- 
strip rivalry, but to my poor taste, Powers has more 
than once surpassed it in feature and expression. I 
suppose it is entirely in keeping with the different 
ages, that the centuries in which life was mainly ma- 
terial and sensuous, should produce its highest per- 



228 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

fection in the delineation of merely physical nature, 
without much regard to that soul beauty which con- 
stitutes for us the highest type of loveliness. 

Of the paintings, I liked best two demi-flguros of 
great beauty — a Magdalen by Dolci, and La Vierge 
des Douleurs, by Salvi. There were, also, among 
the most valuable pictures, two by Rubens, Silenus 
and a Satyr, and a group of Bacchanals ; a Magdalen 
and a St. Francis, by Allori ; a Virgin and Child ; 
The Virgin of the Well ; St. John in the Desert ; a 
portrait of Charles the Fifth, and another of Julius 
the Second, all by Raphael. A head of Medusa, by 
Da Vinci ; a head of St. John, by Corregio, a splen- 
did picture ; San Carlo Borromeo and the Sufferers 
by Pestilence, by Bonatti ; a Virgin and Child, by 
Titian ; Judith and Holofernes, by Artemisia Genti- 
lischi; St. Zanobi restoring a child to life, by Ghir- 
landajo; and a beautiful Cascade of Teverone, at 
Tivoli, by a French artist, Tierce. 

One small room was filled with exquisite sculptures 
in bas relief, of which two were especially beautiful, 
the death of the wife of Francis Tornabuoni, and 
the recluses. of Vallombrosa attacked in the choir by 
the Simonites. Many of these charming sculptures 
have been mutilated by soldiers lodged in the mon- 
astery of St. Salvi, where they were preserved. 

One room is filled with gems and vases of great 
price. Among the most interesting, although per- 
haps not the most appreciable things in the immense 
collection, are sketches and studies by the great mas- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 229 

ters of art, Titian, Raphael, (xuido, Da Vinci, Salva- 
tor Rosa, Poussin, and many others. 

In the same palace is a library, in which we saw 
the manuscripts of Tasso, Dante, Boccacio, and Vir- 
gil; also illuminated books, printed on vellum, and 
adorned with exquisite designs by pen and brush. 
Splendid vellum editions of Homer, Virgil, and 
Dante, and illuminated missals of great beauty testify 
to the perfection to which both the arts of printing 
and painting were carried in ages which we are apt to 
dispose of summarily, by considering them as little 
removed from the middle darkness. 

The gallery of the Pitti palace contains far more 
of interest than that of the Uffizi. Here were some 
magnificent portraits by Raphael, Da Vinci, and Tin- 
toretto ; marine pictures by Salvator Rosa ; a Venus 
and Vulcan, by Tintoretto; Narcissus, by Curradi; 
a Virgin and Child, by Murillo ; the Hospitality of 
St. Julien, by Allori ; Diogenes, by Dolci ; St. John, 
by the same ; a grand St. Peter, by Guido ; a very 
fine Cromwell, by Lely ; Leo the Tenth, by Raphael, 
with countless repetitions of the favorite sacred sub- 
jects, by the masters ; all striking for some peculiar 
excellence. 

Not being able to make such a stay in Florence as 
would enable us to study these splendid galleries, it 
became necessary to pass by numberless pictures of 
interest, and to fix the attention upon the few most 
pleasing to our individual tastes. And a great 
pleasure it was, but one more easily garnered up in 



230 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the memory than described by any thing short of a 
catalogue. 

Scattered about the saloons were tables of great 
beauty, mosaics of precious stones, one of green 
malachite, very like the splendid table at Chatsworth. 

We came away unsatisfied, with a deepened rever- 
ence for the power of the few masters whose works, 
even amid so much genius, stand out pre-eminently 
and unapproachably, the acknowledged sovereigns of 
art. We still look back to the Descent from the 
Cross as first among the pictures that we have yet 
seen, although I doubt if Eubens would have the 
first place if judged by his other works. 

Oct. 1. Visited the Duomo, but did not find its 
interior present unusual interest. It is filled with 
busts and statues, and an unfinished Pieta, by Michael 
Angelo himself, stands behind the High Altar. 

The exterior is of black, white, and green marble, 
and beautiful indeed. My friends went to the top of 
the Campanile, but I contented myself meanwhile 
with a stroll, in the course of which I went through 
a market, filled to profusion with fruits and vege- 
tables, tomatoes, peaches, lemons, and huge bunches 
of grapes that reminded one of Eschol, and all at 
prices ludicrously small. 

There is something very fascinating in the vaga- 
bond life which, by common consent, the traveller 
may live in this luxurious climate ; supplying his 
own wants how and where he will, and roving at 
pleasure among the choicest works of ancient and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 231 

modern art We went to the Church of San Lorenzo, 
but found it closed, to our great chagrin. It contains 
the tombs of the Medici, and the great statues of 
Night and Morning, by Michael Angelo. "We 
visited also the home of this great artist. The splen- 
did suite of apartments, once the scene of his labors 
and enjoyments, is kept in beautiful preservation. 
The walls are covered with frescoes or hung with 
paintings, some of them by the master himself. 
Here are some of his own works in bas relief, and 
studies and models of his great work at Rome. His 
own furniture still occupies his library, and the tiny 
cabinet is unchanged, in which sprang into being the 
wonderful creations which he afterwards embodied 
for the world, and there still remains his own por- 
trait, painted by himself. The house is still in the 
possession of the Buonarotti family, and they do 
honor to the great name, by the sedulous care with 
which every relic of the painter is preserved fresh 
and inviolate. 

We passed the Casa Guidi, the home of one who 
loved Italy with her whole great heart, and went to 
Powers' studio. The New World has vindicated her 
claims to genius, even beside the undying memorials 
of Grecian and Italian art. 

Mr. Powers has certainly the power of transfusing 
the ideal or the individual into his marble heads, as 
the ancients did not often do, perhaps because there 
was not so much to delineate in the faces of their 
models, but his figures must yield to the beauty of the 



232 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Greek. One may study sculpture in the streets of 
Florence. Art, here, bestows her charms as prodi- 
gally as nature showers the abundance of her riches. 
Statues are every where. I could not help wondering 
how long the Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini would 
have remained unmutilated in the line of great 
thoroughfare in the cities of our own land. 

We drove home by the Uffizi, by the portico of 
statues, where stand, in stately order, beneath the 
colonnade, statues of men whose names may well 
make Italy proud, for they number among them the 
pious, the learned, poets, painters, and sculptors, at 
whose feet the world does homage. 

Florence is a truly beautiful city, and a most 
enticing place of residence for a foreign winter. 
It combines the charms of art, society, and climate, 
in no ordinary degree, and the government wisely 
throws all its attractions open to the population 
of strangers which resort hither. The garb or the 
speech of a foreigner is a passport to palaces and 
galleries, which are quite inaccessible to the native 
inhabitants. 

We leave Florence with great regret that our 
plans of return to America forbid a longer stay 
amid so much attraction which we long to explore, 
and so many works of art which we long to revisit. 

Oct. 2. Left Florence for Pisa ; meeting in the rail- 
way carriage friends from America, whom we are to re- 
join at Home. We were unexpectedly delighted at 
Pisa. The leaning tower is a beautiful structure of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 233 

marble, well rendered by the many pictures which we 
have seen of it. It is surrounded by columned galler- 
ies, upon which the broad inner staircase emerges ; of 
marble so polished that one hesitates to trust his 
footing upon the undefended space, especially in such 
a wind as was blowing when we adventured ourselves 
upon the task. 

The ascent is rendered rather fatiguing by the 
continual change in inclination, which disappoints 
the foot ; and there is something nervously suggest- 
ive in the vast hollow depths into which we look 
from above. My own head fairly refused the narrow 
outer staircase of the last division, and I climbed, 
instead, a slender perpendicular iron ladder, let into 
the inner surface of the wall. There is a chime of 
seven bells upon the top, so arranged that the heavi- 
est shall assist in counteracting the inclination of the 
tower. 

The cracks in the marble staircase point conclu- 
sively to the solution of the question whether the 
inclination be intentional or accidental. 

The tower is evidently unfinished; perhaps in 
consequence of the sinking of the foundation. It is 
a beautiful construction, the spiral colonnade giving 
it a very pleasing effect. Adjacent are the Cathedral, 
the Baptistery, and the Campo Santo ; all of great 
interest and beauty. 

The Cathedral is of the eleventh century; it is 
surrounded by a flight of steps, and is built of alter- 
nate layers of white and red marble. It has suffered 

16 



234 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

like the Campanile, from the sinking of the founda- 
tions, but the irregularity does not strike one on a 
cursory view. The High Altar is very elaborate, 
built of marble and lapis lazuli. It has also sunk 
to such a degree as to have required a renewal of the 

front. 

The church is filled with paintings, which, in gen- 
eral excellence, surpass those of any church that we 
have visited. Others have had fine paintings, but 
here are many, not one of which is destitute of great 
merit; and in coloring they are magnificent. 

A beautiful head of St. Agnes, by Del Sarto, en- 
riches the church. An immense alto relievo of one 
piece of marble represents the Temptation, with 
figures of Adam and Eve, of more than life size. 

The serpent is represented with the head of a 
woman ; which circumstance the guide apologetically 
assured me resulted from the ignorance of ancient 
ideas upon the subject. 

There are here two other fine pictures by Del Sarto, 
whose paintings possess a great charm for me ; the 
Virgin, with St. Thomas and St. John ; and a St. 
Francis. Del Sarto died while engaged upon the 
last picture. There is a fine Judith by Allori; a 
copy, or rather a duplicate of the one in the Pitti 
Gallery. The church is filled with statuary and 
costly shrines ; and the ornaments of the architecture 
are rich and varied. We were quite unprepared for 
the closing of the cathedral at the early hour of 
noon, and were, in consequence, deprived of the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 235 

pleasure of dwelling with more minuteness upon 
some remarkably fine, modern pictures; among 
which was one especially interesting, the Reception 
of Coeur de Lion at Pisa, during the Crusades. 

Being excluded from the cathedral, we took refuge 
in the Baptistery ; a circular building of Byzantine 
architecture, richly ornamented. 

It contains, in the centre, an immense Greek font, 
surrounded by exquisite carvings in sixteen slabs, 
brought from Constantinople ; each slab wrought in 
some curious device, different from its fellows. 

The great curiosity of the place is the pulpit. It 
is a marvel of alto relievo ; both the preaching and 
the reading desks are wrought in carvings of great 
delicacy, representing scenes in the life of the 
Saviour. One of the desks is in the form of a book 
supported by an eagle. The great rotunda gives a 
fine echo, which was put to the test by an attendant 
with a musical voice, who sang low chords, and they 
were returned with great precision and beauty. 

The Campo Santo is a kind of spacious cloister 
around a green court, containing monuments, sarco- 
phagi and statues. The walls are frescoed with 
numberless pictures, chiefly from sacred subjects. 
The most remarkable sarcophagus is that of the 
Countess Beatrice ; there is another of the Emperor 
Hadrian; and many curious monuments of the 
ancients, exhumed in the vicinity of Pisa, are here 
preserved. The green plot in the centre contains 
earth nine feet in depth, brought from the hill of 



236 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Calvary, in fifty-three ship loads, during the Crusades. 
Altogether, Pisa is a place of unusual interest; 
although as a city, it wears an air of desolation. In 
the broad day we scarcely encountered a person in 
the streets, and the wide quay along the Arno was 
as silent as a Sabbath day. 

From Pisa we proceeded to Leghorn, which we 
did not attempt to explore ; and after the most vex- 
atious experience of extortion and bullying, we 
found ourselves on board the little Italian steamer, 
bound to Civita Yecchia. The steamers do not come 
to the wharf, but lie along the mole at a considerable 
distance from the shore. We were on board an hour 
before the time of sailing, and it was amusing to 
watch the embarkations, and see the various ways in 
which the unlucky passenger, who hugged himself 
with the belief that he had made a secure bargain, 
was cheated or abused. We paid ten francs from the 
station to the steamer, where the officer comforted us 
with the assurance that it was seven francs too much. 

However, we were on board, and the time for the 
departure came. It blew a stiff breeze, and the little 
buoyant boat rode the tossing waters like a bird, the 
only difficulty was that its occupants were not con- 
stituted like waterfowl. One after another the visages 
grew pensive, then serious ; some quietly disappeared, 
others silently devoted themselves to a contemplation 
of the depths of the sea. 

For my own part, I summoned all my intellectual 
resources to keep down the rebellious spirit within ; 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 237 

but there came a time when resistance ceased to be a 
virtue, and I gave in — unconditional surrender. 
The gale freshened, and the waves came sweeping 
over the deck ; but nobody seemed to mind it, so 
long as he had energy to keep upright. At length 
the deck was deserted by all except Mrs. E., myself, 
and a pale young priest, who sat helplessly upon the 
planks, and smiled a ghastly sympathy at us in his 
better intervals. It grew wetter and wetter ; there 
seemed no possibility of weathering the night on 
deck ; we heard the sailors prognosticating a stronger 
blow, and it soon became apparent that we must be- 
take ourselves to the confined depths below. But 
how to get there was a question. 

The boat pitched like a see-saw, with a lateral roll 
superadded, which precluded the possibility of keep- 
ing our feet. The difficulty was solved by two 
sailors taking us each in their arms, and, watching 
their opportunity, they staggered with us across the 
deck to the gangway. Here dispossessing a score of 
sick outsiders, they lifted us down to the cabin. 
There the homme de chambre did his best to help us, 
but we were past help. My friend betook herself to " 
her berth, and bore it bravely, but I lay upon the 
floor in a state of helpless abandon for which I have 
no name ; not even the fleas moved me to resistance, 
nor could I bestow word upon friend or foe. 

It was well that nobody was hungry, for the 
kitchen was upset in the beginning of the blow. My 
prevailing thought during the night was of our pro- 



238 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

jected return from Naples to Marseilles by sea, and 
my heart sank and my stomach rose inversely. One 
consolation only mingled with it all — it could not 
last forever, and with the morning sun we dropped 
anchor at Civita Vecchia. 

One would suppose that the next thing would be 
to land, but things are not done in that cursory way 
in the dominions of His Holiness. Home has been 
threatened by sea before, and one never knows what 
may happen again. 

The captain went on shore with the passports 
which we had given up at Leghorn, and after an 
absence of an hour and a half, he returned, accom- 
panied by two or three small boats. 

A man presently made his appearance on deck, 
with two bits of paper in his hand, from which he 
read the names of our own party. This turned out 
to be a permission to land, and we gladly proceeded 
to take our places in a boat, and rowed away. 

It seemed ludicrous to leave the small number of 
passengers, innocent looking voyagers, ruefully await- 
ing the moment when the safety of the state should 
permit them to follow us. Our protector professed 
to be a commissioner under the especial auspices of 
the American Consul; and, having seen our pass- 
ports, he had hastened to secure for us the earliest 
permit. Our citizenship stood us, for once, in good 
stead, for, in the examination of the luggage, the 
word American acted like magic, to close lock and 
strap upon a very respectful research. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 239 

We were duly accredited and seated in the railway 
carriage before the next detachment from the steamer 
made its appearance. As for those of the passen- 
gers forced by this delay to wait for the next train, 
one could easily imagine their disgust after such a 
night. 

The train proceeded to Kome, a distance of forty- 
five miles, in three hours and a half, stopping at fre- 
quent intervals, sometimes in the midst of the deso- 
late Campagna, without any apparent reason, perhaps 
to prepare the Pope, by degrees, for our approach. 
At last the long, low line of city, surmounted by dome 
and tower, rose to view — Eome, the city of the 
Caesars — I cannot yet comprehend it. 

We are established in the Bocca di Leon^ near the 
Pincian Hill, and the associations of ages come 
surging over the petty present, and almost appal the 
thoughts. However, even in Rome one must rest, 
and we went to bed without bestowing many thoughts 
upon the Caesars. 



240 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER XII. 



ITALY, 



Rome — St. Peter's — Vatican — Capitol — Foruui — Coliseum — Naples — 
Herculaneum — Pompeii — Museum — Chapels — Pausilippo. 

Oct. 4. We strolled clown to the ''yellow Tiber,'' 
crossed the classic river in a ferry boat, certainly not 
less rude than that which carried Caesar, followed a 
long dusty footpath, as lonely and uninteresting as 
any by-way in New England, and passed under an 
arched a%d sentinelled gateway, into a silent street, 
which led to the great colonnade in front of St. 
Peter's. 

This wonderful edifice, like the mighty works of 
Nature, needs time to comprehend its vastness. It 
covers two hundred and forty thousand square feet, 
and is four hundred and forty -eight feet high. I 
think, however, that it is impossible, by statistics, to 
gain any conception of St, Peter's. 

The disposition of the noble porticoes which lead 
to it, the immense facade which effectually conceals 
the height of the great dome, the wide rectangular 
columns, the breaking of the outline between the 
roof and the columns, and the colossal size of figure, 
both in painting and sculpture, all tend most artfully 
to diminish the proportions of the mighty structure, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 241 

and it requires a continual effort to remember that it 
is the greatest of all Cathedrals. Perhaps one of the 
best proofs of its immense extent is that you are con- 
tinually forgetting it, and stray about the aisles and 
chapels to gaze upon the works of art within them, 
as if you were under the open air of Heaven. 

I do not think there is any point of vision in the 
interior from which we may gain an adequate idea of 
its size as a unity, as can be done in the cathedrals of 
Northern Europe. 

We traversed the wide space in front of the church, 
and found that, also, altogether deceptive to the eye. 
In the middle stands the great obelisk of the Vatican ; 
one of those brought from Heliopolis, and erected 
upon its present pedestal in the sixteenth century. 

I do not propose to attempt any description of St. 
Peter's ; or to do more than glance at a few of the 
most striking features of its interest. If one should 
write a volume, there would still be something left ; 
and, so far as impressions go, I know, by experience, 
how impossible it is to convey them to others, upon 
a subject like this. 

We found High Mass in progress of celebration, 
with all the mummery of priest and host, procession 
and torches. Several masses were said in different 
parts of the church, while we remained ; and a score 
might go on at once without interference. The dis- 
tant chants strive against the overwhelming space — 
and die. 

In the first chapel to the right of the entrance, is a 



'24:2 WAV SIDE SKETCHES. 

famed Pieta, by Michael Angelo, inscribed with his 
own name. Sculptures abound every where, chiefly 
monumental; some very fine, by Canova. I believe 
his tomb of Clement the Thirteenth is considered to 
be, not only the finest sculpture of St. Peter's, but 
the most distinguished of his own productions. The 
Pope is a majestic figure, in the attitude of prayer, 
supported by two figures of Death and Religion. 
Two enormous couchant lions lie at the base ; one of 
which, represented sleeping, is a splendid work. A 
bronze statue of St. Peter sits in the nave, not far 
from the High Altar, and thither came the devout, in 
almost continuous procession, to kiss his toe, which 
is suffering materially from the devotions of ages. 

Before the High Altar, a circular marble balustrade 
surrounds a sunken space, to which descends a double 
flight of marble steps: and there, immediately under 
the dome, kneels a figure of Pius the Sixth, before 
the crypt which is supposed to contain the relics of 
St. Peter. A hundred lamps shine, night and day, 
around this sacred enclosure ; a transfer of the Vestal 
fire well calculated to win favor in Roman eyes; and 
above the most consecrated altar hangs an elaborate 
canopy, or baldacchino. Higher up, the eye seeks 
the majestic dome, which almost seems the vault of 
heaven brought down to earthly eyes: and in its 
apex is a representation which chills a Protestant 
heart; the Jehovah himself in visible form. In the 
tribune hangs an enormous chair, said to enclose the 
identical chair in which the Apostle was crowned. 



W A Y S I D E S K E T C H J . 243 

The mosaics of St. Peters are far finer than the 
sculptures. Three especially seemed to me to surpass 
all the others ; the copies of Raphael's Transfigura- 
tion; Domenichino's Sacrament of St. Jerome, and 
Guido's Crucifixion of St. Peter. The Incredulity 
of St. Thomas, by Cammuccini, is also very fine. 

We returned by the bridge of Hadrian, at the 
castle of St. Angelo ; a fort, which if all tales be 
true, could speak volumes as to the craft and cruelty 
of the papal system — even at the present enlight- 
ened day. How enlightened this may be, one may 
perhaps judge from a tract put forth during this 
very year under the authority and signature of the 
Pope himself. It purports to have in view the com- 
forting and strengthening of the faithful in these 
times so disastrous to the true church, by refreshing 
their memory with a history of a miraculous picture 
of our Lord, recently exhibited to the public. This 
portrait is averred to have been sketched by St. Luke, 
I think the night previous to the Crucifixion. In the 
morning the picture was found miraculously com- 
pleted. It was preserved with great care among the 
most sacred possessions of the eastern church, until 
the city in which it was deposited (I do not remem- 
ber where — possibly Damascus) was in danger of 
pillage. The brethren, in their anxiety lest the pre- 
cious picture should suffer violence, sought divine 
direction with many prayers and tears; and being* 
supernaturally advised, they went down to the sea 
and committed it to the waves. The picture set forth 



244 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

upright, upon its seaward journey, and the brethren 
returned to pray for its safety. Meanwhile the Pope 
having been warned in a dream, repaired, with the 
college of cardinals, to the mouth of the Tiber, there 
to await the developement of the mysterious com- 
mand; when they saw this picture approaching, 
which leaped, dry and unharmed, into the arms of 
his Holiness, and was carried in great joy to Eome; 
having made the passage of the Levant, rounded the 
peninsula, and sailed up the Sicilian coast, if I rightly 
remember, in about thirteen hours. 

The degree of enlightenment, in which the highest 
authority of the church can gravely put forth such 
a statement to the people of the nineteenth century, 
scarcely admits a comment, 

Oct. 5. To-day have visited in the Vatican, the 
Loggie, the Sistine chapel, the chapel of St, Paul, 
and the Museum ; re- visited St. Peter's, went to the 
Capitol, the Forum, and the Coliseum. 

I can say little of the Vatican, that one palace of 
the world. It is difficult to comprehend a structure 
containing four thousand four hundred and twenty- 
two rooms, and I bring away an impression of 
magnificent halls, and porticoes with splendid fres. 
coes; grand staircases; and curious and precious 
works of art. Among the latter are some elegant 
vases of Egyptian alabaster and green basalt. 

The Sistine Chapel was one of those overwhelming 
disappointments which I am willing, in all humility, 
to credit solely to my own lack of appreciation, since 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 245 

the world of art cannot be mistaken as to its excel- 
lence. I know it is a terrible heresy, but the famous 
dicture of the Last Judgment seemed not only dis- 
agreeable, but ludicrous. Here, again, is the embodi- 
ment of the Divine Father, and the conception of the 
scenes of the Judgment are material, puerile, and, in 
some respects, heathen ; Charon figuring anew in 
this sort of baptized mythology. 

Of the execution, I have of course no right to speak. 
The walls are covered with smoke-stained subjects 
from the life of Moses on one side, and of Christ on 
the other. The ceiling is crowded with pictures of 
Scripture history painted in small compartments, and 
the figure of Eve is faultless, even to ignorant eyes. 

We left the Vatican to return again and again, 
and went to St. Peter's, which immediately adjoins it ; 
and, leaving the wonders to be seen in it for another 
time, we tried to see it; to comprehend its vastness, 
to watch the perspective of retreating figures, to pace 
its length and breadth, and to grow accustomed to 
thus height, ever and anon finding our attention 
rivetted by some charm of art, unseen before, and 
resting with increased admiration upon the St. Jerome 
and the Transfiguration. 

Then we went down the Piazza again, and made 
our way through the city to the Capitoline Hill, and 
climbed the steps to that august presence, the Koman 
Capitol. Why is it that the shrines at which we have 
done mental reverence, all our days, should seem 
such things of course, when we resolve them into the 



246 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

actuality of personal experience? The staircase to 
the Capitol seemed very like any other flight of 
steps, even with Castor and Pollux at the top ; and 
the magnificent equestrian statue of Marcus Aureli us 
which confronts them, compelled a loug pause of ad- 
miration, even there. It is the most splendid work 
of bronze I ever saw, and worthy of its noble 
model. 

We found the picture gallery closed for repairs, 
but had ample food for admiration in the statuary. 
The bronze Wolf of the Capitol was a matter of 
legitimate interest. We found here the beautiful 
doves of Pliny, which are so often reproduced in 
brooches. The boy extracting a thorn from his foot 
is one of the most graceful of sculptured works ; the 
engraving is one of my old admirations. The Ama- 
zon, the Antinous, the Cupid, and the Fa^n of 
Praxiteles need no description of their faultless pro- 
portions. Indeed, in touching upon world-renowned 
art, any thing beyond the names seems to belittle 
their dignity. 

Pre-eminent in the Capitol, is the Dying Gladiator. 
I have no words to describe the wonderful power of 
the round, compact, muscular frame; and the still 
more wonderful effect of the strong self control of 
mortal agony fading into dim unconsciousness, as 
u the drooped head sinks gradually low " in death. 
It is the only ancient sculpture that I have seen, 
where the perfection in physical developement is 
combined with the higher'power of perfect expression. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 247 

From the Capitol, we descended to the Forum, to 
me the most profoundly interesting spot of this 
strange city. Who does not feel that he knows the 
Eomah Forum ? Yet here, amid broken shaft and 
crumbling arch, massive foundation and defaced cap- 
ital, each one spells out, with difficulty, his own 
theory of the extent and character and position of 
the spot which once sent forth the silver streams 
of eloquence, or hurled the angry thunders of defi- 
ance to the echoes of the world. And above thc^t" 
mass of nameless ruins, still stands a fragment of the 
portico ; the silent symbol, eloquent above all utter- 
ance, of magnificence and oblivion. No tangled 
wilderness ever seemed to me so desolate as the 
Roman Forum. 

Then, by the Sacred Way, along which the impe- 
rial city was wont to pour its living flood, we wended 
our almost solitary way, beneath the Arch of Titus, 
to the Coliseum. 

This immense structure has been stripped of its 
marble exterior to build the palaces of later Rome; 
but the inner construction still remains, perfect in 
extent, and, in some places, in its height. It is 
an immense oval, surrounded by a triple row 
of arched colonnades, broad and massive still; from 
which open in frequent transverse arch, the stair- 
cases leading to the stalls which overlooked the 
arena. The amphitheatre rises, story above story, 
to the height of more than one hundred and fifty 
feet, its broad colonnades resembling the streets of 



248 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

a city. Below the present level sward lie the dens in 
which the wild beasts were confined ; and one conld 
fancy the scenes of almost forgotten ages again pres- 
ent to the view. Here gathered the imperial purple 
and the plebeian serge, the haughty patron and the 
cringing client, to quench the common thirst of cru- 
elty. All watched with eager, cruel eyes, the mortal 
combat of the gladiators; those barbarians whose 
animal ferocity was stimulated to the utmost by the 
applause of the equally ferocious crowd; or perhaps 
deepened by the long hunger for freedom. 

Into that very arena have been thrown delicate 
women, to be gored out of the shape of humanity ; 
and there have stood Christian men, by thousands, to 
struggle to the last mortal extremity with savage 
beasts, until they were torn limb from limb ; and the 
roar of the lion was mingled with the roar of the 
eighty thousand incarnate fiends that thronged the 
mighty theatre. 

The blood of the slaughtered saints, which cries 
from that fearful soil to heaven, has not been una- 
venged. The sentence of retribution is written upon 
fallen shaft and shattered fane ; upon buried palace 
and forgotten temple ; the city sitteth solitary which 
was full of inhabitants ; and the once fruitful Cam- 
pagna lifts its blasted face to the summer sky, 
scorched by the fiery breath of desolation. Eome is 
to me oppressively sad. It seems impossible to iden- 
tify the imperial city, the mistress of the world, the 
home of the ancients, whose names make the page of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 249 

history splendid, with the ruined dust, upon which 
have arisen the temples of a pagan Christianity, the 
galleries of almost divine art, the palaces of insig- 
nificant despotism, and the substratum of squalid 
poverty and lazy mendicity. 

Oct. 9. If we were disposed to erect a superstruc- 
ture of vanity upon slight foundations, we might fancy 
ourselves people of mark, inasmuch as to make an 
innocent journey to Naples it was necessary to obtain 
permission of the paternal government of Rome. 
Then, not content with having satisfied itself that we 
had brought nothing objectionable into the kingdom, 
it must needs be assured that we carried nothing out ; 
so we were duly examined and vised before leaving 
the Father's dominions. Then, of course, United 
Italy must protect herself from our inroads, so the 
same ceremony was repeated across the frontier, a 
few yards further on. I do not know whether the 
effect is more ludicrous or wearisome, to be stopped, 
on a prosperous journey, at some little wayside shed, 
and watch the process of discharging the vans of all 
the travellers' gear, without even the satisfaction of 
seeing the delay justified by a thorough search. 

At the frontier between Rome and Naples, there 
was the usual amount of crowd and begging ; one 
bright little rascal of ten was actually so accomplished 
as to beg in three languages. 

The ragged, dirty countrymen gathered closely 
about, wearing a dress which is so picturesque in 
painting, and reminds one of banditti. 
17 



250 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The substitute for shoes is primitive. A round 
piece of hide is wrapped around the foot, and pierced 
upon the edge with slits, through which a long strap 
is laced, and made fast by numerous turns about the 
lea-. The women adopt the still more primitive 
fashion of going bare-footed; or wear the common 
slipper without heels, usually without stockings. 

A large stone station-house was in progress of erec- 
tion, and women and very young girls carried the 
heavy hewn stone and the tubs of mortar upon their 
heads, up the steep ladders, to the masons. We 
always see Italian peasants laden with baskets of 
grapes in the world of art; but the reality is of 
heavier calibre than grapes. 

"We were not yet done with passports. We must 
obtain permission at Naples to return ; which per- 
mission must be again scrutinized on the way ; and 
finally, our credentials were delivered into the cus- 
tody of the police on our arrival at Eome, to be 
reclaimed by a fresh application at the bureau on the 
following day. 

The whole operation would seem ludicrous, if it 
were not both annoying and expensive ; but so far 
as we are individually concerned, the Papa has reit- 
erated reason to feel perfectly at ease. 

The route to Naples lies through a country, in 
some parts very beautiful. The Apennines are 
bare and barren, but it is surprising to see the luxu- 
riance with which the vine flourishes upon the low 
hills, whose only soil seems to be the loose ashen 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 251 

debris of volcanoes. The villages are all perched on 
the summits of the peaked hills : 

" Like eagles' nest, hang on the crest 
Of purple Apennine," 

perhaps as a necessity of safety ; perhaps because 
the air is healthier than in the plains. Still, it strikes 
one that there is a vast expenditure of climbing in 
Italy, to very little purpose. 

It is very amusing to become suddenly aware of 
one's own importance by the operation of flying 
through an Italian village. It requires about five 
minutes, but, for that display, the horses are put to 
their mettle, and the whip, unlike any other instru- 
ment which bears the name, is tortured into convolu- 
tions that produce such cracks as are surely unknown 
to any other part of the civilized world. The speed 
and the noise together are something half alarming, 
half ridiculous, but produce an edifying effect upon 
the beholders. 

One point of remark upon the way to Naples is a 
convent called Monte Casino, crowning the summit 
of a high hill, the first convent established in Italy, 
and said to be very rich in wealth and curious works 
of art. 

I was unprepared to find Naples such a beautiful 
city, although why a city which has been the abode 
of a royal court for so many years, should not be 
beautiful, did not occur to me. It encircles the lovely 
bay in a sweeping crescent of great extent. Directly 



252 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

before the city, and breaking the sea outline, lie the 
picturesque islands of Ischia and Capri ; and in the 
back ground rises the double peak of Vesuvius; as 
peaceful and innocent-looking a mountain as if it 
were not wont to overwhelm man and his works in 
deadly ruin. 

Naples would seem to one traversing the streets, to 
be the one point of the earth where the productions 
of all climates and all soils gather to a common centre 
of abundance. Fruits, flowers and vegetables are 
heaped in combinations that cannot choose but be 
picturesque. Pomona herself could scarcely typify 
the luxuriant blessings of the country. What is 
peculiar here is, that the productions of the temperate 
zone do not disappear, as the earth warms into tropical 
growth. Apples and oranges, pears and pome- 
granates, peaches and figs, grapes and nuts, are piled 
side by side, while the lean, abused donkeys are 
laden with pyramids of panniers, bursting with vege- 
tables, green, gold and scarlet ; spring, summer and 
autumn, all blended in one. 

We took the most respectable and vigorous of 
commissioners, and drove out, through Portici and 
Eesina, to the strange city, once more open to the 
sunlight after seventeen hundred years of oblivion. 
We walked the deserted streets, whose pavements 
wear the mark of the wheels of two thousand years 
ago ; .we stood within the still gaily decorated walls, 
and explored the penetralia, and trod the mosaic 
floors of dwellings instinct with life and luxury when 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 253 

the Saviour lived in Galilee ; and yet, before even all 
his own apostles had received the crown of martyr- 
dom, these busy streets, and gorgeous temples, and 
human abodes were passing into oblivion beneath 
the ashen waves of that flood which came " when 
they knew not," and swept them all away. Nearly 
all the exhumed tokens of life have been removed, 
and are carefully preserved in the Museum at 
Naples ; but street and house, theatre, temple, forum, 
and fountain are still as distinctly marked as in any 
city in the world, and one scarcely knows which 
excites the most wonder, the completeness of the 
destruction or the magnitude of the labor of resto- 
ration. 

I remember one beautiful grotto, around a fountain 
in the court of a dwelling, which is composed of 
shells wrought into pictures and colored scrolls, the 
fine shell-work as minutely perfect as if it had been 
finished yesterday. 

The mosaic floors of the vestibules still welcome 
us with "salve," or warn us with "cave canem." 
The dining rooms still wear their bright frescoes of 
game, and fruit, and flowers, and the leaden pipes are 
ready to spout water into the fountains and piscinia. 
The ranges are ready for fire, and wine is still 
stored in the cellars. 

Upon the wall of one of the cellars is distinctly 
impressed the outline of a human figure, fled to this 
vain refuge, and even here sought out by the de- 
stroying element. 



254 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The Amphitheatre is very perfect, showing dis- 
tinctly the gradations of the several tiers of seats, and 
the wall is entire to the top. It is very large, and of a 
slightly oval form. 

There remain yet miles of excavation to be made, 
even after the labor of a hundred years. Still it is 
easy to comprehend the possibility of the work being 
successfully conducted at Pompeii, when the super- 
incumbent mass consists of a loose soil of ashes and 
earth ; we tried the hoe and pick ourselves, and 
found it not difficult ; and with care the fine works of 
art distributed throughout the buried city may be 
well recovered. But it is a far different thing to go 
down into the solemn depths of Herculaneum. 
There one threads lofty black galleries, hewn out of 
the solid lava, firm as granite, the fiery flood having 
flowed in and filled every corner of the doomed city. 
Yet out of these recesses of blank darkness have 
been exhumed statuary, and pictures, and orna- 
ments, public buildings have been identified and de- 
fined, even the books of the day have been rescued, 
and while the outer folds are burned to a cinder, the 
inner convolutions have been unrolled, and in many 
of them the Greek characters are perfectly legible at 
this day. 

The most thoughtless heart must feel appalled 
within these shades of death, and escape to the 
abodes of life with a grateful sense of relief. 

We drove home through the environs of Naples, 
where wine was streaming from the presses, and frames 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 255 

of maccaroni hung drying in the sun ; the bright gay 
city in view on one hand, and the sunny bay stretch- 
ing away into the western distance on the other. 
The element of mendicity seems to find its highest 
developement here. The halt, and maimed, and 
blind, and distorted, throng the streets, and thrust all 
that is painful and disgusting in humanity under 
your sight, until, amid all its beauty, the heart sickens 
at the thought of Naples. 

We visited the Museum, which contains the won- 
derful treasures reclaimed from the depths of the 
buried cities. They fill many rooms, and consist 
of mosaics, statuary, frescoes, household implements 
and ornaments ; in fine, every thing that belongs to 
the busy life of a great city — turned in one hour to 
the fixedness of the grave. Seventeen hundred 
Papyri, taken from the excavations, are here pre- 
served, and some of the skeletons which abound in 
the ruins. The great amount of jewels and house- 
hold decorations speaks of the immense wealth of 
these buried cities, yet, strange to say, no amount of 
coin has yet been discovered. The government is 
expecting that discovery when the banking streets 
shall be uncovered. But it would not be strange if 
the Eomans had been beforehand with them, and had 
made sufficient explorations, after the catastrophe, to 
possess themselves of the bulk of the buried treasure. 
The number of the destroyed population has been 
variously estimated from thirty to forty thousand. 

What seems a marvellous feature of the country 



256 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

is, that beneath the very mountain from whose bowels 
flowed these desolating rivers of fire, men still build 
their cities and cultivate their fields. Within the 
memory of the children of twelve years, the moun- 
tain has disgorged its molten flood, and streets in 
Eesina are still blocked up with the solid mass ; and 
there they still live, as if bound by some magic fas- 
cination to tempt their fate. However, it is no more 
astonishing than the parallel in the moral world, 
which meets us every day and every where. 

The Picture Gallery of the Museum is a very fine 
one, occupying a succession of spacious halls, and 
enriched by the works of Guido, Eaphael, Corregio, 
Da Vinci, Titian, Eubens, Guercino, Domenichino, 
Claude Lorraine, and Salvator Eosa. 

In one of the rooms sat a little fellow of ten years, 
the untaught child of the streets, modelling an infant 
Saviour, his little fingers as deftly expert upon the 
work of his brain as if he were a practised sculptor. 
It seems that the arts breathe in the air, and spring 
from the soil of Italy. 

We drove about the city, and visited various 
churches, some of which contain remarkable works. 
Finest of all are those of San Severo, a private chapel 
attached to the palace of San Severo. In a subter- 
ranean chapel is a work superior to any thing I have 
ever seen, a veiled Christ, by San Martina It is not 
that the fine outline of the figure has been preserved 
beneath the shrouding veil, but that the veil itself 
seems transparent, disclosing perfectly the minute 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 257 

features of expression, not only of the face, but of 
the sinews, and muscles, and veins of the limbs. It- 
is the only sculpture, representing the Saviour, which 
has not been extremely painful to me ; this, on the 
contrary, inspires a pleasing, tender awe. In the 
upper chapel is another veiled statue, that of a lady 
of the San Severo house, of great beauty, both of 
face and figure, the veil transparent as in the former 
statue — both these sculptures were the sole works of 
their authors. Opposite the lady above mentioned, 
stands her husband, enveloped in a net, which Cupid 
strives in vain to remove, symbolizing the retirement 
into which he fled on the death of his wife. Behind 
the altar is a magnificent alto relievo of almost 
colossal size, representing the Descent from the Cross. 
The chapel is small, but more remarkable than any 
thing of its kind in sculpture, especially in monu- 
mental designs. We visited several other churches, 
handsome in architecture, and filled with decorations 
of merit and interest. Some of the palaces and 
public buildings are very handsome. 

We drove out of the city to the summit of a hill, 
commanding a fine panoramic view of the city and 
its beautiful bay. While Mrs. E. and myself enjoyed 
the view from the terrace of a pretty villa, the gentle- 
men visited the convent of San Lorenzo, within whose 
holy precincts no profane foot of womanhood is al- 
lowed to tread. It is remarkable for some fine 
paintings. 

We were disappointed of a visit to the reputed 



258 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

tomb of Virgil, by the rain, but drove through the 
Long grotto of Pausilippo; an excavation in the solid 
rock forty-live hundred feet in length, by which the 
ancient Roman port of Pozznoli was connected with 
the more modern city of Naples. With Rome, it 
was connected by the Appian way. and was not only 
the southern port of entry, but a summer watering- 
place for the Roman nobility. Here the great Apos- 
tle landed on his way from Syria to Rome. 

The country below Naples is at present infested 
with the brigandage of which we have heard so 
much, and we did not attempt the drive along the 
shore to Sorrento. It is not a fortnight since a num- 
ber of carriages were stopped on the return from 
Castellemare, robbed, and some of the travellers 
carried into the mountains to be held to ransom. 
They also attacked and plundered a convent, and 
maltreated the priests. The Neapolitans are exces- 
sively uneasy under the new government. 

Accustomed to Naples as the seat of government, 
they consider their interests overlooked at Turin ; 
while deprived of the advantages of trade which 
result from the presence of a court, they still feel 
the evils of the former state of affairs, together with 
the difficulties of getting a new regime into working 
order — and the benefits of a free government have 
to be waited for. So that all the discomforts of their 
transition state are popularly credited to the new 
system. 

Our clever guide, Mauro, had lived in England, and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 259 

comprehended the difficulties and the blessings of 
freedom in a very sober way for one of his mercu- 
rial countrymen. I find that my idea of Italians 
has been divided between nobles and peasants, and 
I am perpetually calling myself to account for being 
surprised at seeing a community of well-dressed, 
well-bred gentlemen and ladies, who look precisely 
as if they had just walked out of Broadway. They 
are a very interesting people to me, with a healthful, 
genial naturalness, a ready sympathy, and a quick 
perception, very unlike what I had looked for in Italy. 
A system of public instruction is getting slowly 
established, and the thinking part of the people per- 
ceive that their hopes for the future of their dis- 
tracted country, must rest mainly upon this agent of 
improvement. To those who look only at present 
results, Austrian Italy is the best governed part of 
the peninsula. 

On our return to Kome, we remarked a large body 
of soldiery at several stations, where the railway 
nearly approached the hills ; and were told that they 
alone secure the trains from the successful attacks of 
marauding banditti, who can make an easy escape 
thence through the Apennines. The peasantry and 
servants of the country wear a dress refreshing to 
eyes accustomed to the respectable sameness of ordi- 
nary male attire. They wear a green velvet postill- 
ion's jacket, with small clothes, and long white stock- 
ings and buckled shoes ; while the conical hat is gay 
with rosettes and plumes. 



260 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Among the minor enjoyments of travel, has been 
an untold amount of education on the subject of cur- 
rency. It requires a little time to become accustomed 
to pounds, shillings and pence ; by the time this is 
fairly accomplished, it is necessary to transfer the 
calculations to the very different, although far easier 
method of francs and centimes ; and we learn, besides, 
that the French system is the best basis to think 
upon, while on the continent. It is, therefore, with 
peculiar pleasure, that we discover that a silver gros- 
chen is equal to thirteen centimes, and a Prussian thaler 
to three francs and seventy-eight centimes ; while a 
silver groschen is two-thirds of a good groschen. 

Of course, the absolute value of any thing to be 
obtained by means of the aforesaid coins, sinks into 
insignificance, when compared With the import- 
ance of understanding the meaning of the money 
itself. But the groschen must needs be disposed of 
before entering the confines of Germany; for although 
it is financially true that five silver groschen are 
equal to seventeen and a half *kreutzer ; and seven- 
teen of the same coin with two and one-eighth 
pfennings make a German florin; yet, practically, 
they are worth nothing at all, as they are utterly 
refused. 

By this time, the complication of values has arrived 
at a point which puts a hasty, and at the same time 
an advantageous bargain out of the question ; a fact 
which the venders of merchandise are not slow at 
turning to their own account. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 261 

And then the travelling accounts ! One has need 
to congratulate himself upon a severe acquaintance 
with vulgar fractions to be sure of balancing the daily 
expenditures. 

Then the Austrian Zwanziger, and the Italian Lira 
are each just near enough to a franc to introduce 
hopeless confusion into my own calculations ; to say 
nothing of the fact that an Austrian florin differs from 
a German one by three-quarters of a kreutzer. The 
tornesi, carlini and*grani of Naples are disappearing 
among the clumsy copper coins of United Italy ; and 
it is really comfortable to recognize, in the baiocchi, 
pauls and scndi of Rome, a close resemblance to our 
own currency, such as enables one to form some ready 
conception of a price, without an exhausting demand 
upon the fiscal education. 

It is very surprising that the currency of each 
small dominion can be so carefully confined within 
its own limits as to be rendered utterly useless every 
where else ; but the arithmetical exercises necessary 
to such a tour as ours, are cogent arguments in favor 
of the universal adoption of the perfect metric system 
of Napoleon. I, for one, most heartily wish success 
to that particular aim of the present statistical Con- 
gress of Nations. 



262 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



ITALY, 



Rome — St. Petor's — Vatican — Villa Borghese — Pincian Hill — Palaces Ros. 
pigliosi, Borghese, Barberini, Spada — Churches of St. Augustin, St. John in 
the Lateran, St. Maria Maggiore, St. Petro in Vineulo, Cappuccini — Scala 
Santa — Fountains — Catacombs — Columbaria — Baths — Genoa — Turin — 
Mont Cenis. 



Oct. 10. Another day in the wilderness of Rome. 
We have been, to-day, under the auspices of a valet de 
place, to the dome of St. Peter's. In no way can one 
get so thorough an idea of the immense magnitude of 
St. Peter's, as b}^ an ascent to the roof and the ball. 

The way to the roof is by an inclined plane with- 
out steps, and the ascent easily accomplished. The 
roof itself is a broad expanse, flagged with stone, 
from which rise not only the huge dome, but smaller 
ones, which would seem imposing any where else. 

It affords a fine view of the general scope of the 
city and the course of the Tiber, and especially of the 
Vatican and its gardens. No where else can the 
Vatican be so well seen in all its great extent. 

The ascent to the dome is by staircases between 
the inner and outer walls, built at last in the same 
zigzags by which we have learned to ascend moun- 
tains. From the top of the dome the view is mag- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 263 

nificent ; the city, the Campagna and the distant 
hills forming a panorama as striking to the eye as stir- 
ring to the imagination. The sluggish Tiber pours 
its tide between the old and the new city, and my 
fancy filled the low hills on its right with the Etrus- 
can armies, while the little wooden bridge was crashing 
to the waves behind the hero of Roman romance ; 
and the buried dust of the ancient city stirred anew 
with the Fathers and the Commons of that iron time. 

From the inner gallery you can examine the rough 
mosaics, made of large bits of stones, with wide 
cracks between, that produce such a grand effect from 
below, and you can gaze into the profound depth, and 
measure, from above, the height which every where 
defies your power of appreciation. 

Finally, we climbed the perpendicular ladder, and 
ensconced ourselves within the hot circle, so small 
when seen from below, yet capable of containing six- 
teen persons. There are small loop-holes to admit 
air and light, and from them one can take in a suc- 
cession of charming pictures, each distinctly framed 
by the sharp lines of the aperture. 

Thence, after another stroll about the aisles of the 
church, through which it is impossible to hasten, we 
went to the Yatican gallery, a small but choice col- 
lection of pictures ; I suppose the best of its size in 
the world. Among them, those which strike the 
unlearned taste most forcibly, are those also upon 
which the world of art has impressed its seal of 
approbation. 



264 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The best in our eyes were that magnificent Com- 
munion of St. Jerome, by Domenichino ; Raphael's 
Transfiguration ; Guido's Martyrdom of St. Peter ; 
A Madonna and Child, with St. Thomas and St. 
Jerome, by the same hand ; St. Jerome, by Da Yinci ; 
Guercino's Incredulity of St. Thomas, and two splen- 
did pictures by Murillo ; The Mystical Marriage of 
St. Catharine, and The Return of the Prodigal. This 
gallery is unlike all others that we have visited. In 
others, even the finest, there have been scores of 
indifferent pictures, gilded Madonnas, with no merit 
beyond their age, painful distortions of the human 
figure, and countless paintings which have merit to 
the initiated, but which win no favor in the eyes of 
laymen. But in the Yatican there is no picture 
which one would not return, again and again, to 
study and admire. 

We went also to the mosaic manufactory of the 
Yatican, where these great works are reproduced with 
minute fidelity ; a labor far from being simply me- 
chanical, but requiring a truly artistic eye. The 
completion of these exquisite copies requires from 
five to twenty years. They are made only for the 
disposal of His Holiness in gifts to royalty, or for the 
adorning of the great churches. Besides the knowl- 
edge of art necessary to copy figure and color, it 
seems to me to require great skill to proportion the 
size of the stones and the minuteness of finish to the 
distance from which the work is to be viewed. That 
perfect proportion is one of the chief marvels of St 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 265 

Peter's, and demanded nothing less than a Michael 
Angelo to combine the architect with the artist. 

At the K-ospigliosi palace, the one great attraction 
is Guido's Aurora, a picture beyond all praise, beau- 
tiful as a dream, and a grateful relief to the eye 
wearied by Madonnas. One might easily turn pagan 
in Kome, were it only to soothe his irritated taste for 
the graceful. 

The great masters of sacred art were wont to 
embody their genius in many painful scenes, marvel- 
ously true to life, and all the more exhausting from 
that very circumstance, but here all is airy grace and 
entrancing beauty. A perfect realization of ethereal 
charms floats before the car of day, dropping flowers 
from her hands, while the exquisite group of the 
hours follow in their train, leading a dance, in which 
every attitude is faultless. 

It was a charming drive to the Villa Borghese, an 
elegant country seat without the walls. The casino 
is a succession of magnificent halls, works of art in 
themselves, and filled with paintings and statuary. 
There are some charming pieces of alto relievo from 
classic subjects, and a grand one of Curtius leaping 
into the gulf confronts the great entrance., Among 
the statues is a fine dancing Fawn, discovered in 
some ancient excavation, and Bernini's splendid 
group of David and Goliath. But nothing here sur- 
passes Canova's Pauline Buonaparte, and an oil fresco 
by Gagnereau, of a sleeping Yenus, is exquisite 
beyond description. 

18 



266 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

We were stopped on our return at the Church of 
St. Augustin, to see the marvelous display of gifts, 
in jewels, silver and gold, at the shrine of the Virgin, 
who sits benignantly, clad in adornings of which the 
lowly Virgin never dreamed, to receive upon her toe 
the kisses of the faithful. 

Last, but not least, we went to see a fine new piece 
of sculpture, called the Pompeian Mother, represent- 
ing a beautiful woman, with an infant clasped in her 
arms, shielding both herself and it from the fast 
falling cinders, by a drapery, which she spreads 
above her head, while she presses on to seek shelter 
and safety, with a concentration of intentness which 
leaves no room for the emotions of either fear or 
horror. I expect to hear the name of Meli among 
the masters of sculpture before I die. 

My ideal Corso, for which I have looked in vain 
while unconsciously passing and re-passing the real 
street, has resolved itself into a long, unremark- 
able street, wide, indeed, for Rome, and dignified 
as the others are not, by a sidewalk, filled in the 
afternoon with handsome carriages and riders. 

We have been to drive in the gardens of the 
Pincian Hill, a charming resort, which commands a 
fine view of the city. The drive ascends the hill 
by winding terraces, gay with the equipages of all 
ranks and nations. Mounted sentinels, immovable 
as statues, are stationed at the entrance of the private 
avenues, and the gardens are adorned with busts and 
statues. This elevation gives a fine view of St. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 267 

Peter's, which seems to pervade the entire city, and 
looms np larger and higher as we become accustomed 
to the distances, and the edifices begin to assume 
name and form to our recognition. 

The mind absolutely refuses to receive, as a type 
of the severe statuesque Eoman matron, tl^e herds of 
womanhood, neither severe nor comely, who inhabit 
the ancient city. The vestal fire is quenched ; the 
Penates are not those of the days of Lucretia, and 
one could enumerate many divinities whose worship 
is conducted under the open vault of heaven, whose 
rites are mysterious no longer. And I fear there is 
less dignity, and no more piety in many of the so- 
called Christian temples, than characterized the wor- 
ship of Jupiter and Saturn. 

Oct. 12. We have spent the day in seeing pictures, 
statuary and curiosities, and my not very strong head 
is tangled with a general complication of saints, 
martyrs, goddesses, athletes, vases, columns, shrines 
and sarcophagi. 

For some reason or other, my heart was not in 
sight-seeing, but brim full of individual interests, and 
I scarcely do justice to the wonders of the day. One 
thing that has impressed me deeply, in looking at the 
exhumed treasures of the Museum, is, that Eome is 
built upon a city as thoroughly entombed, and more 
wonderful in its riches, than the revived cities of Her- 
culaneum and Pompeii. The very dust upon which 
we tread is the depository of art and* treasure, such 
as filled the palaces of ancient Rome, or rolled, in 



268 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

floods of riches, along the triumphal way from the 
Campus Martius. 

One grows impatient here. We come to see 
Koman Home, and Eomish Kome every where treads 
down the ancient landmarks, and turns the temples 
and pala^s with which we are familiar into idol 
shrines of far more puerile observances. 

One of the most striking features of Eome is the 
abundance of water. Fountains spout alike from 
homely corners and ornamented basins. The jets in 
the piazza of St. Peter's have been playing night and 
day, for two thousand years, and the long solid 
arches, which Appius Claudius, of hateful memory, 
built three hundred years before Christ, still conduct 
the living flood into the degenerate city. 

There are some fountains of especial note ; the 
largest and finest that we have seen is the fountain 
of Trevi, built against the lofty facade of the Palace 
Centi. The water rushes in a broad, deep flood, over 
an enormous mass of rock work, and falls into a vast 
basin, in which Neptune reclines in his car, sur- 
rounded by Tritons. How refreshing is the depth 
and purity of those waters, and how one lingers to 
listen to the plash of those crystal streams, one 
should traverse the streets of Kome to know. The 
water is clear, sweet, and cold, fortunately requiring 
no ice, as that is an unattainable luxury here. 

To return to the Vatican ; the statuary, like the 
paintings, is of acknowledged and unrivalled merit. 
I must pass by countless works of art in precious 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 269 

t 

stones, and sculptures of more or less merit, which 
make the halls of the Vatican a study for years ; and 
note the few which stand out prominently in my 
memory — which are an Athlete ; Meleager and a 
Boar ; The Apollo and Antinous Belvidere ; the great 
Laocoon, a cast from which has haunted my memory 
from my babyhood ; and a Perseus, by Canova, which 
last, it is safe to predict, will outstrip even the sculp- 
tures of the ancients, when posterity shall have 
reached such a distance as shall give them the same 
perspective. 

In the palace Borghese there are many really 
splendid pictures. Raphael's magnificent Entomb- 
ment of Christ ; Danae, by Corregio, in its execution, 
as I think, the most beautiful of them all ; the cele- 
brated Cumean Sibyl, by Domenichino; St. Ignatius 
devoured by wild beasts, by Giordano ; Head of St. 
Joseph, by Guido ; a fine Madonna, by Dolci; the 
Chase of Diana, by Domenichino; St. John in the 
Desert, by Paul Yeronese ; Sacred and Profane Love, 
and Sampson, both by Titian ; and a portrait in the 
Rembrandt style, of Marie de Medici. 

In the Barberini is Raphael's Fornarina, and a fine 
picture of Lucrezia Cenci, by Gaetani ; but we had 
no eyes for any thing except the marvelous Beatrice, 
the most faultless face — the most spiritual, gentle, 
resigned, grief- ful face, that was ever put upon canvas. 
Those tender luminous eyes haunt me with such a 
beseeching claim upon my pity, that I cannot believe 
that the original has mingled with the dust of cen- 



270 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

turies — that the fair young head ever hung ghastly 
upon the very bridge over which we pass in daily 
indifference. 

In the same room is a picture by Del Sarto, the 
best of the myriad Holy Families that I have seen. 
The undeniable tendency of such a superabounding 
holiness is to make one fatally profane, and one wel- 
comes a real heathen goddess with relief, provided it 
be not a reiteration of Venus. 

St. John in the Lateran is a splendid church. It 
is the most ancient of the Basilicas, and is the parish 
church of the Pope. Our guide was evidently scan- 
dalized by. our indifferent manner of declining a sight 
of the table upon which the Last Supper was cele- 
brated, but we were not interested in the precious 
relic, veritable as it is, and wrought of cedar and 
silver. 

The Corsini chapel contains the most splendid and 
costly curiosities of the whole church, being adorned 
with an incredible amount of jewels, precious stones, 
exquisite marbles, mosaics and sculpture. In a sub- 
terranean chapel beneath the one just mentioned, is 
a Pieta of consummate beauty, by Montauti. A 
Pieta, by the way, is a group of the Virgin with the 
dead Christ in her arms. 

It seems ridiculous and irritating, that such a gem 
of loveliness should be concealed in this dark recess, 
and permitted to be seen only by the smoky candle 
of the attendant. The tenderness of the mother, 
and the reverence of the Christian, are exquisitely 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 271 

blended in the beautiful figure of the Virgin, while 
the Christ seems nothing short of perfection. 

The largest obelisk in Eome is in the space before 
the Lateran. It is of red granite, and covered with 
hieroglyphics. 

We encountered here the very best specimen of 
the genus beggar that we have found in all these 
begging countries. She was the Irish beggar of the 
Coliseum, and this was our second interview. The 
late abundant rain had rendered the Coliseum unap- 
proachable, and she was plying her vocation within 
the city. Of all beggars, commend me to the Irish 
for ingenuity and importunity. The gravity of her 
assertion that she had eaten nothing in five days; 
the corresponding gravity with which she was assured 
that, such being the case, nothing could save her 
life ; her baffled disgust at being proffered food in- 
stead of money ; the respectability of her numerous 
testimonials, and the Parthian arrow which she dis- 
charged at our hard hearts, were truly curiosities in 
their way, that cost no slight effort to regard with 
decorum. 

Hard by, in a porch of the Lateran, is the Scala 
Santa, or holy staircase ; which can be ascended only 
upon the knees ; where the light of the divine atone- 
ment first burst upon the soul of Luther. And 
here, this very day, we have seen the people of the 
nineteenth century crawling devoutly up, to claim 
the indulgences granted to the pious act. 

Santa Maria Maggiore is, like many other churches, 



272 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

famous for its wealth and beauty, and is remarkable 
for its beautiful columns; but we are weary of 
churches, and mean to see pagan Home to-morrow. 

Oct. 13. We have been diving into the substratum 
of this marvelous city to-day, and,with two exceptions, 
have ignored the Rome of the Pope. The exceptions 
consisted of a visit to the Church of the Capuchins, 
to see Guido's famous picture of St. Michael and the 
Dragon ; a picture of great power, which fails signally 
in any attempts at copy that we have seen. The 
almost supernatural combination of exquisite spirit- 
ual beauty with holy indignation and resistless power, 
is beyond any conception but that of Guido himself. 
This church also contains a splendid picture of the 
Conversion of St. Paul, by Cortona ; and one of the 
Ecstasy of St. Francis, by Domenichino. 

The other church was that of St. Pietro in Vin- 
culo, containing Guido's Speranza, which was disap. 
pointing ; and a statue of Moses, by Michael Angelo. 
The conception of the great Lawgiver is so just that 
the mind rests with a satisfaction upon its execution, 
which is often withheld from great works of art 
which fail to realize our own ideal. This has finished 
our pictures. 

We have seen besides, the Catacombs ; the tombs 
of the Scipios ; the Columbaria of Caesar's household ; 
the Circus of Marcellus; the Cloaca Maxima; the 
Silver Fountain ; the Arch of Janus ; the circus and 
temple of Romulus ; the baths of Titus and Caracalla ; 
the Tarpeian rock; Pompey's Pillar; the house of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 273 

Raphael ; the porch of Antoninus, and many ruins and 
fragments of public works ; all which bear date far 
back into the regions of legendary history. 

The Cloaca Maxima is among the most ancient of 
all Roman remains. It was constructed one hundred 
and fifty years after the founding of the city, or about 
six hundred years before Christ ; and still serves the 
purpose of a sewer connecting with the Tiber. 

This part of the city is the spot where the little 
cluster of huts built by Romulus, became the germ 
of the Metropolis of the earth ; and here the legend 
says, the twins were cast ashore, hard by the Palatine 
hill, crowned with the magnificent ruins of the 
palaces of the Caesars. 

Near by is the Silver Fountain, at which Castor 
and Pollux watered their steeds after the battle of 
Lake Regilius. It is still much resorted to on ac- 
count of its medicinal properties. 

We drove through the Appian Gate, out upon the 
Appian way, the old wall still skirting that street of 
tombs, to the great circus of Romulus ; an immense 
amphitheatre for races and games. Adjoining is the 
temple of Romulus, with the addition of a church, 
which follows here, of course. All these strong, 
lasting walls have been stripped of the marbles which 
gave them their beauty, but the inner structure has 
still ages of duration in it. 

The Catacombs — that dread mysterious, subterra- 
nean world — what can I say of them ? We wound 
along the countless narrow streets of that silent 



274 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

abode, peopled with myriads upon myriads of the 
inhabitants of ancient Rome. These excavations 
honeycomb the Campagna for miles, and reach down 
to Ostia. And when we remember what a large pro- 
portion of the Roman dead were burned to ashes, 
and deposited in the Columbaria, or in household 
urns, these depositories, crowded with graves, speak 
more expressively of the vast population which had 
need of this immense work, than any estimate of the 
dwellings of the living can do. Darker deeds than 
have stained the pages of any other history, are 
written upon these black walls. It is estimated that 
nearly two hundred thousand Christians were slaugh- 
tered in these gloomy recesses, whither they had fled 
from the raging persecutions. 

One would think such a living tomb scarcely pref- 
erable to a more speedy release by martyrdom ; 
nevertheless, countless families, holy men and wo- 
men, and tender children sought shelter in these 
chill dungeons, and here the voice of prayer and 
praise went up to heaven, and here the brethren 
brought the remains of the mart} T red faithful, and left 
upon their resting places the symbol which distin- 
guishes the Christian from the pagan. 

Some of the inscriptions upon fragments of tombs 
at the entrance struck me with a sudden tenderness 
of human universal sympathy, which fails to arise 
in the midst of generalities. There was a " puella 
dilecta" and an "infans dulcissime" in the ages past, 
as well as among the babies around our own knees. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 275 

From the entrance to the catacombs of Calixtus, 
one gets a grand view of St. Peter's. The mighty 
cathedral seems to need a distance like this (of six 
miles) to be apprehended in its greatness; and the 
dome swells through the cloudless air, as if it alone 
were Eome, and the city but its pavement. 

The tombs of the Scipios, in which lie all the 
heroes of that noble race, except Africanus, claimed 
an interest similar to the Catacombs ; but the Colum- 
baria had more the effect of a curiosity. In deep 
apartments there are built small niches, like the 
nests of a dove-cote, in which are deposited the 
ashes of the dead, and inscriptions on the walls 
mark their identity. We saw, yesterday, the ovens 
in which the bodies were reduced to ashes. 

Nothing has been more calculated to impress us 
with the elaborate splendor of Eoman magnificence, 
than the baths. The baths of Caracalla retain their 
walls, some of their beautiful mosaic pavements, and 
the ruins of such stupendous columns and massive 
roofs as fill the spectator with amazement. The 
falling of the roof and upper story has entirely 
covered the real area of the baths, which held at 
once sixteen hundred people ; while the amphitheatre 
was decorated with a wealth and luxury, such as 
scarcely belonged to the palaces. The great statues 
which we saw at Naples ; the Farnese Bull, Flora 
and Hercules, were taken from the grand oval of 
these baths. These figures are colossal, and are 
placed in the Museum in the relative position in 



276 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

which they were found. The central group is a work 
of great size and beautiful finish. It represents the 
sons of Antiope in the act of fastening Dirce to the 
horns of a furious bull, while their mother looks on 
from a distance. The shrinking, imploring terror of 
the victim, the powerful strength of the young man 
who grasps the struggling animal, and the immovable 
sternness of the mother, are portrayed with painful viv- 
idness. The extent of this building was nearly a mile. 

The baths of Titus are smaller, but more magnifi- 
cent. They are, in themselves, a striking epitome of 
Koman history. We look at Mycenas, and Nero, 
and Titus, very much upon the same plane — but 
here is the perspective. Upon the ruined villa of 
the wealthy Mycenas, Nero built an edifice, which 
became, in its turn, the substratum of the luxurious 
baths of Titus ; and, one above another, the distinctive 
remains of each age are to be traced. 

From these baths was exhumed the statue of Mel- 
cager, at the Yatican, and also a splendid porphyry 
urn in the Museum. 

We contented ourselves with a survey of the exte- 
rior of the Pantheon, which is transferred to a new 
idol worship. 

The palace of the Orsini is built above the theatre 
and circus of Marcellus, and the ancient substructure 
is perfectly discernible. 

One begins after a time to penetrate the interme- 
diate rubbish, and to give local habitation and a 
name to the ideals of Roman history, and poetry, and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 277 

mythology. We returned home by the Spada palace, 
to see Pompey's statue, at whose base "great Caesar 
fell." In an alcove at this palace we saw a curious 
effect of imagination, or rather of perspective. At the 
end of an apparently long vista of arbor, we saw a 
statue, as it appeared, of the size of a full grown 
man; and nothing but repeated experiment could 
convince the senses that it was scarcely four feet high 
and but a few feet distant from the eye. The illu- 
sion is produced by the rapid diminishing and nar- 
rowing of the rows of columns painted upon the 
sides of the alcove. 

We were, by this time, weary ; and came home to 
lay up in our memory the wonders of art and anti- 
quity, of magnificence and desolation, with which 
the imperial city is crowned and scourged. 

Oct. 15. I just began to realize the depth of interest 
in Eome as we drove for the last time through the an- 
cient streets, past obelisk, fountain, column, palace and 
temple. The combination of the two interests of art 
and association tends to confuse the pleasure of a 
short sojourn in the city. That which is modern and 
continental overlays that which is ancient and pecu- 
liar, and presses itself first and most urgently upon 
the attention. 

I venture to say that, universally, the first visits in 
Eome are to churches and picture galleries ; yet it is 
beneath all this that the profound heart of t^e city 
lies, and one needs to close the bodily eyes, and 
people his own brain, by the help of the landmarks 



278 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

which he has seen, with the existences of the past. 
Roma fuit — she wore the purple, and grasped the 
reins of dominion ; she brought to a common focus 
the art, the learning, the polish of Greece, the gor- 
geous magnificence of oriental wealth, and the muscle 
and sinew of the northern barbarians; and then, 
like Tarpeia, she sank, overwhelmed by the weight 
of her gifts. Hers was not the genius of creation, 
either in poesy, oratory or literature, but she possessed 
the power of elaboration, by which she wrought 
materials, already created, into shape, for use and 
transmission. Her era was an advance in the civili- 
zation, of the world, and eminently an era of law. 

But this great moral fungus, which crops out from 
every spot in Rome, has no share in the great memo- 
ries of the nation or the city. Rome exists no longer. 
The papal system, like the foul excrescences which 
creep over a decaying tree, shines in crimson and 
gold and silver, and, like them, a touch discloses the 
decay and rottenness within. We who protest 
against the corrupt church, have reason to be thank- 
ful that she has her seat in the most insignificant 
nation upon earth. Perhaps it is by a wise dispen- 
sation of Providence, that these fountains of evil are 
pent up within a certain sanctity of position, instead 
of being scattered abroad to carry their prestige into 
any other quarter of the globe. However interested in 
our st§y, we bade adieu to Rome with no reluctance ; 
nor will it be with any reluctance that I shall lose 
sight of the yeasty waves of the blue Mediterranean. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 279 

We have passed the day with home friends, who 
have been also our pleasant travelling companions, 
upon a French steamer at anchor off Leghorn, which 
anchorage our former experience here did not tempt 
us to abandon. 

These Mediterranean steamers sail at night, and 
spend the days in taking on and discharging freight 
and passengers at the different ports. We have come 
on from Civita Vecchia, even with the horrors of the 
former passage in our memory, as our time was too 
limited for a return by land, as we desired, and we 
are hastening to France by Genoa and Turin. It has 
been one of those restful days which are impossible 
upon land, in a country where there is so much to 
tax the eye and brain — but it is nevertheless a sea- 
sick place, and I long for terra firma. 

Oct. 16. The rain prevented our doing more in Ge- 
noa la superba, than driving a little through the prin- 
cipal streets, visiting some of, the shops, and looking 
up and down the steep flights of steps that connect 
the streets. The city is beautifully situated upon the 
crescent bay, and elaborately surrounded by long 
lines' of fortifications, to which the natural defenses 
of the hills are well adapted. The forests of masts 
indicate the commercial character of the place, but 
the shallowness of the water prevents vessels coming 
to the piers, giving occupation to swarms of boatmen, 
as at Leghorn ; but not to such a grasping race as 
their brethren at the latter place. A fine statue of 
Columbus stands opposite the station, with handsome 



280 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

panels of bas relief, representing important events in 
the life of the great adventurer. 

On our way from Alessandria to Turin, we en- 
countered the first detention by accident that has 
occurred during our whole journey. The train ran 
over a cow, breaking a wheel, and throwing one of 
the carriages off the track However, no one was 
hurt, and the carriage was soon replaced. The same 
rain continued, and prevented our seeing any thing 
more of Turin than that it is a fine, modern-built 
city, with wide streets and handsome buildings. We 
came on to Susa for the night, for an early start 
across Mount Cenis, and staid at a queer inn, with 
the oddest, out of door effect. The rooms opened 
upon a heavy stone gallery, which overlooked a 
court, filled with diligences and various other vehicles ; 
all outside rude and coarse, while within all was 
comfortable and restful to weary travellers. We 
went through the usuaj process of discussion with 
the proprietors of the possible vehicles, and entered 
into solemn contract, with printed conditions and 
penalties, which did not, however, prevent our 
enjoying the repose of the night. * 

Oct. 17. The imperative hour for an early departure 
arrived before the inmates of the inn were astir, and 
we began to fear the necessity of setting forth on a dim, 
chill morning, without our breakfast, and that, too, 
upon a mountain pass, with no possible breakfast 
upon the way. However, the Italian system pre- 
vailed, and we not only waited for our breakfast and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 281 

enjoyed the steaks, and fagots of delicate Italian 
bread, but did so without losing our connection with 
the railway on the other side. 

The passage of Mount Cenis, which was the route 
of Hannibal, is less picturesque or grand than the 
other Alpine passes which we have made; but while 
it verified the vetturino's description of "a good road 
but a bad route," it is not without striking features 
peculiar to itself. We had expected to travel to 
Paris, by way of Marseilles, so that it was with a 
double pleasure that I welcomed again the grave 
brown range of the Savoys. The pass, though short, 
is steep, but the road is a broad, smooth construction, 
magnificently engineered through the rough defile. 

Here we found, once more, the rushing beauty of 
the mountain torrents, and countless cascades, lacing 
the sides of the mountain in long, slender, silver 
threads, or drifting in snowy clouds from the summit 
of the precipices. Unlike the Bernese Oberland, 
which wears its velvet greenness to the very footstool 
of eternal snow, the sides of the hills stretched up- 
ward, almost barren of turf, but gay with the many 
hued autumnal foliage of the scanty forests. They 
are, in general, lacking in great elevations of blank 
precipice, but near the summit of the pass one mighty 
head rises square and black, its rugged perpendicular 
face written all over with the hieroglyphics of creation. 

The white crests gathered closer about us as we 

went onward and upward, until at last we were fairly 

in the midst of the snows, as truly as if it had been 
19 



282 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

December in the heart of Yankeedom. Near the 
summit is a beautiful lake of considerable extent, of 
which we have often heard as one of the highest 
bodies of water in the world. 

The French side of the mountain is more like our 
former experience of the Alps ; and while our wheels 
were crushing the snows of the summit, we were 
overhanging emerald valleys, dotted with town and 
hamlet, and saw, once more, the unfailing chalets 
perched in a thousand nooks, and cultivated fields 
and terraced vineyards clinging to the sides of the 
brown hills. A broad, beautiful stream rushed down 
to unite the many streamlets from the summit with 
the river which flows to the Rhone in the winding 
valley of the deep gorge, down which we zigzagged 
in long curves to St. Michel, where we found rail 
again, bj which we came on to Chambery. 

Nearly at the top of Mount Cenis, where the gorge 
of the defile is most precipitous, is a most formidable 
mass of fortifications commanding the pass, a perfect 
key to Italy in that direction. Hannibal himself 
would have made good his retreat had he caught 
sight of such preparations to welcome his approach. 
I was about to say that Napoleon would have retired, 
but that I am inclined to doubt, for he who marched 
an army across the great St. Bernard would surely 
have contrived some way of evading the fortress of 
Mount Cenis — or of taking it. 

Chambery lies in a lovely valley, encircled by 
sharply defined ridges of mountains ; they were 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 283 

purple with the slanting rays of the sunset as we set 
out on our night journey to Paris, and the broad 
sweet lake which slept at their foot, gave back the 
glowing sky like a crystal drop at the bottom of an 
amethyst goblet. 



28-4 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

FRANCE. 

Paris — Louvre — Notre Dame — Hotel des Invalided — Bois de Boulogne — 
Jardin des Plants — Gobelins — Chapel of St. Ferdinand — St. Chapelle — 
Luxembourg. 

Oct. 22. This is our fourth day in this great, 
brilliant, cheerful, showy city. The first two days 
we devoted to rest, and to strolling through the wide 
streets and wider boulevards, gazing at the countless 
shops, and enjoying, by contrast, after the dirty nar- 
row streets of most of the continental cities, the 
broad avenues and splendid gardens of this metropolis 
of elegance. 

It seems to me that it will be difficult to accomplish 
much sight-seeing while the city itself is so pleasing. 
Then, too, as a place of association, it means less than 
the ancient cities, crowded with the interests of two 
thousand years. 

Yesterday we went to the Bois de Boulogne, to see 
a review by the Emperor. This extensive pleasure 
ground is perfectly charming. The drives meander 
through a wide extent, diversified by sweeps of 
emerald meadow, long forest glades, mounds of 
flowers and shrubs, shady deer parks, and the most 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 285 

beautiful of irregular lakes, where troops of stately 
swans sail in the shadow of green thickets, or feed 
upon the short smooth turf of the margin. Nothing 
is wanting to make the place a most attractive resort 
for the pleasure loving inhabitants of the city. 

The review took place in a field of such extent 
that the eighty thousand troops said to be under 
arms seemed like a picture of an army rather than a 
living body of 'soldiery. 

There is no need to say any thing of the appearance 
or organization of French troops — nothing can be 
more brilliant and perfect, nevertheless, I liked the 
Italian army better. 

We had an excellent view of the Emperor, as he 
rode within a few feet of our carriage. He is a grave, 
noble looking man, much handsomer than his pic- 
tures, and looks every inch a king. I could not but 
feel painfully for a man whose finger presses the 
spring of such a government as France ; whose daily 
life lies amid a network of ambuscade and precedent, 
which must sometimes shake even the iron nerves of 
Louis Napoleon. We miss the pleasure of seeing the 
Empress, as she is at present at Madrid. 

The vast assemblage of soldiers and spectators 
melted imperceptibly away from the avenues of the 
Bois de Boulogne, leaving only the long line of car- 
riages and horsemen upon their afternoon airing. 

We returned past the Triumphal Arch, which 
commemorates the victories of France, and down 
the magnificent avenue of the Champs Elysees — 



286 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

such an avenue as is to be found no where 
else in the world. The mile which spreads before 
one, standing at the Arc de Tetoile, has no parallel. 
It is crossed in the distance by the splendid palace of 
the Tuileries, and beyond can be seen, here and 
there, the towers of the Louvre. The street reaches 
down a gentle descent, growing wider and wider, 
until it almost loses the character of a street, and 
becomes pleasure grounds, with tree's, shrubs, and 
flowers upon either hand, and every tempting form 
of amusement and attraction for children spread out 
upon the smooth borders of the triple causeway. 
Half way down it attains its greatest breadth ; two 
large fountains rise on either hand, surrounded by 
little lawns and flower borders. On the right you 
diverge to the great glass Palace of Industry ; on the 
left are the charming gardens of the palace d'Elysees. 
It retains its park-like aspect even to the Place -de la 
Concorde — a wide, open space, directly before the 
gardens of the Tuileries, which was occupied by the 
guillotine during the Revolution. In its centre stands 
the great obelisk of Luxor, and upon each side are 
fountains and sculptures. Among the latter are two 
splendid horses, originally wrought for the park at 
Marly. Between this space and the palace are the 
beautiful gardens of the Tuileries ; on the right the 
street immediately crosses the Seine, and presents the 
public buildings of the general government ; on the 
left you look down the Rue Roy ale to the Madeleine 
— the finest church in Paris. Still farther down, at 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 287 

right angles to the gardens of the Tuileries, is the 
Place Vendome, with the column and statue of 
Napoleon. We watched the lowering of the figure 
of the General, so identified with the very idea of 
Napoleon, and the substitution of a civic statue in a 
Roman toga and a laurel wreath. The destruction of 
the entire column could not more effectually obliterate 
the Napoleonic idea, than this new rendering of the 
personality which has so long crowned the city. 

To clay we have been to the Louvre and the gar- 
dens of the Tuileries. The gallery of the Louvre 
does not contain such eminent works of art, as have 
made many other galleries famous ; but here again we 
find the brilliancy of Rubens, the majesty of Vandyke, 
the grave solemnity of Rembrandt, the sweetness of 
Da Vinci, the tenderness of Corregio, the heavy 
uniformity of Holbein, the rustic naturalness of 
Teniers, the golden-haired beauties that Titian loved 
to paint, the life and soul that breathe from the faces 
of Raphael, and the surpassing spirit and power and 
grace of Guido — the master who towers above them 
all ; to say nothing of such painters as Domenichino, 
Guercino, Tintorretto and Del Sarto ; in whose paint- 
ings are united, m some degree, the coloring of the an- 
cient, and the expression of the modern schools. The 
Louvre was a sort of general review of the different 
styles of the great artists, whose works are seen in 
their perfection in the different galleries of the con- 
tinent, and are here brought into contrast, each with 
his peculiar ideality and individual excellence. It 



288 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

was refreshing to lind only a light proportion of 
the Holy Families and Venus. 

There are two exquisite modern paintings by the 
same artist, whose name I have failed to discover ; 
Endymion Sleeping, and The Burial of Atala. 

But the grotesque allegorical conceptions of even 
great painters, especially in religious subjects, strike 
the mind of the modern beholder with more of the 
ludicrous than the reverent. 

It seems strange, too, when the emotions of the 
human mind must have been the same in all ages, 
that students of nature, as all artists are supposed to 
be, should have failed so often in transferring to 
canvas any adequate picture of the emotion proper 
to the subject. Of this the face of the Virgin is an 
eminent example. Nineteen twentieths of the Vir- 
gins wear faces more earthly and expressionless than 
that of any peasant to be found in common life; 
while the Judiths, which rival the Virgins in number, 
have almost invariably a simper of consciousness, 
which would be fatal to a girl of fourteen. All this, 
however, is very unlearned and presumptuous criti- 
cism. The statuary of the Louvre does not compare 
with the collections which we have already seen, and, 
with the exception of the Venus of Milo, did not 
seem to me to contain very remarkable specimens 
of art 

Oct. 23. I have another idle day to record. We 
were abroad from ten to six ; and with the exception of 
visiting Notre Dame and Sainte Chapelle, and getting 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 289 

our luggage from the station, we have spent the day 
in that sort of operation expressed in America by 
"loafing;" walking about the splendid streets, and 
gazing at the brilliant display of wares that make 
Paris one great toy shop. 

Notre Dame is a fine Cathedral of the eleventh 
century, but not so fine as those of Cologne, Stras- 
bourg or Italy. The wood carvings of the choir, of 
the fifteenth century, are very good. The Church is 
not decorated with paintings and sculpture, as is 
common in the continental cathedrals. One good 
bas relief represents Archbishop Arf, as he endeav- 
ored to quell the tumult upon the barricades, during 
the last revolution ; an attempt which proved futile 
and fatal, but which has canonized him for all gen- 
erations. 

We were admitted to the sacristy, where we saw 
various treasures ; the gold coronation service of the 
first Napoleon ; a bit of the true cross ; some remark- 
able jewels and vases belonging to St. Louis. In a 
carefully guarded case is a most magnificent shrine, 
adorned with numberless jewels ; the model of a 
larger one which contains the veritable crown of 
thorns, brought from Palestine, by St. Louis, and de- 
posited in Sainte Chapel le, which was built for the 
purpose ; and in which service is performed once a 
year, for the purpose of exhibiting the sacred relic. 
At least, to quote our Venetian guide, " so runs the 
legend." We saw the mantle of crimson, wrought 
with golden bees, in which Napoleon was crowned ; 



290 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and the various splendid vestments of the ecclesias- 
tics worn on that occasion ; as well as those worn at 
the coronation of the present Emperor, and at the 
baptism of the little prince. 

The most truly remarkable things in Notre Dame 
were two silver vases presented by Charlemagne. 
The attendant told us that in some recent excavations 
in the course of the present repairs, there have been 
discovered the bodies of the Archbishop who founded 
the Cathedral, of Philip Augustus, and of Elizabeth 
the Second. Behind the High Altar is a Pieta, by 
Michael Angelo, but it does not compare favorably 
with the same group by the same master at Rome. 

Sainte Chapelle is a small chapel, lined entirely 
with tall stained windows of the thirteenth century 
— beautiful, and very different from other church 
edifices. It is not intended for worship, except upon 
the annual exhibition of the crown of thorns. Both 
these churches are upon the Isle, to which there is 
crossing by many splendid bridges over the brown 
Seine ; and which contains some of the oldest build- 
ings of the city. Sainte Chapelle is adjoining the 
palace of Justice. 

We have been to the Louvre again, and have 
found another exquisite picture, the St. Margaret 
of Raphael. It is a relief to find that the glaring 
tints of Rubens' long series of Medici pictures are 
supposed not to be the work of the great artist; 
but of his pupils, after his own sketches. 

There is a sweet little child portrait by Velasquez, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 291 

the infant Marguerite Therese. But the gallery is 
unsatisfying. The beautiful hall adorned with fresco 
and bas relief, representing the seasons and the 
zodiac, is admirable. „ 

We have been to the new boulevards, and have 
admired the magnitude of the works which are con- 
verting the irregular suburbs into splendid quarters. 

Oct. 26. To-day we have been at the Hotel des 
Invalides. It is a pleasure to see with what care these 
remnants of the French army are considered. The 
house is worthy of its object, and one could imagine 
the pride with which the battered veterans of the 
great campaigns of the French army pass their last 
days beside the ashes of their idolized chief. 

The chapel of the Invalides is hung with many 
a stained and tattered ensign, which must speak 
volumes to the old worshippers, and which are more 
touching, even to the careless observer, than any of 
the paraphernalia of the church itself. 

The tomb of the great Napoleon is beneath the 
dome of the church behind the Invalides. It is a fit 
resting-place for the man. A superb sarcophagus 
encloses the remains of the long exiled monarch. It 
is of red granite, from Finland, massive, yet tasteful, 
with no excess of ornament. It is sunk many feet 
below the floor of the church, in a circular space, 
which is floored with mosaic, and bears the names of 
his principal battles. The sides of the depository are 
adorned with figures, representing, allegorically, the 
results of their battles. The entrance to the crypt is 



292 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

below and behind the High Altar, to which the 
descent is by white marble steps. There, two dark 
colossal figures guard the portal, on which is inscribed 
the famous sentence in which the dying Emperor 
desired his ashes to rest "upon the borders of the 
Seine, in the midst of the French people whom he 
had so much loved." The tombs of Duroc and Ber- 
trand stand on either hand. The altar is beautiful — 
of green and Egyptian marble; and in two side 
chapels are sculptured monuments of Turenne and 
Vauban. It is, altogether, a perfect monument, and 
adapted to its purpose with true French taste. 

Oct. 23. Have visited, to-day, the Jardin des 
Plantes, and the Gobelin manufactory, and have seen 
the Hotel de Yille, the Tower of St, Jacques, the Place 
du Chatelet and Fontaine Palmier, and the Palais 
Royal. The Jardin des Plantes is filled with plants and 
animals from all quarters of the globe. We devoted 
ourselves to the animals. They are admirably pro- 
vided with proper abodes, each in its own enclosure 
and cabin. The bears have baths, and dens, and 
climbing poles, and the clumsy hippopotamus his 
swimming bath, in which he lies, the very picture of 
lazy, piggish luxury. The animals of the frigid and 
torrid zones dwell in amicable proximity, and the 
beautiful varieties of the feathered creation perch in 
the branches of the trees, or trip about their yards, 
as if conscious of their claims to admiration. 

We intended to have visited the Conciergerie, but 
gave it up after an hour of the circumlocution office. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 293 

We presented ourselves at the office of Justice for 
admission, and were told that we must obtain an 
order from the prefect of police, whose bureau, how- 
ever, was in the street directly behind the palace. 

The bureau proved to be upon the other side of the 
wide square, but we found it ; ascended to the great 
hall, where we were politely directed by sundry 
officials to a passage which led back, over a long 
bridge, to an office, evidently in the very palace which 
we had just quitted. Here we were as politely 
directed from room to room, until we arrived at the 
end of 'possible directions — the prefecture. Here 
we found three dignified gentlemen at a desk, who, 
upon receiving our application, desired us to return 
by the way whence we had come, to the office of the 
first division, at the door of "affairs personnels." 
We retraced our steps, the precious moments of a 
limited hour slipping away ; applied at "affairs per- 
sonnels," were directed to an inner room, and still 
another — all in the most civil manner. But the 
affair began to assume a ludicrous aspect, and it was 
with difficulty that I could preserve the proper 
gravity to repeat the question, which had almost lost 
its signification. The official of the penetralia sent 
us on our return by the narrow passage which we 
had already traversed, and, by the way, the whole 
arrangement resembled some temporary construction 
in the back yard of a hotel, rather than the access to 
the most complicated and perfect police machinery 
in the world. An attendant showed us a narrow 



294 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

staircase, which we mounted, and reached another 
set of offices, at the innermost of which they directed 
us to return by the same staircase, and another also, 
into a vestibule, whence another long passage led 
down to the real inner den of that mysterious ani- 
mal — the police, guarded by an ante-room. Here the 
chief received our application, and in return assured 
us that it was impossible to issue the desired permis- 
sion until we had made an application to our own 
ambassador. This was the result of the long pere- 
grination, and for what? — for permission to visit an 
empty dungeon, which was directly below >our feet 
on our first request at the Hall of Justice. By this 
time we had arrived at the conclusion that neither 
our patience nor our leisure would bear much farther 
strain, so we shook off the dust of the prefecture 
from our feet, and departed. 

On arriving at the Gobelins we found that we. had 
made another sad mistake, in forgetting our pass- 
ports, and were peremptorily denied entrance ; but I 
plume myself upon my powers of persuasion in the 
French language, inasmuch as I did at last soften the 
heart of the Cerberus in uniform, and we entered. 

The tapestry is of exceeding beauty, the pieces 
exhibited being copies of the best paintings of the 
masters. Even Eaphael's Transfiguration is exqui- 
sitely copied. We saw, also, the work in progress. 
The warp is suspended, the stout threads running 
perpendicularly, while the woof is wrought in by the 
workman sitting behind it, with the picture to be 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 295 

copied still behind him. The outlines of the figures 
are sketched upon the white warp. After the trans- 
verse threads are introduced, instead of being beaten 
up by a beam, they are brought close by a small flat 
stick, about three inches wide, with teeth that pass 
between the threads and beat the woof down hard. 

The work, when the coarse threads are perpen- 
dicular, is called haute lisse, and when horizontal, 
basse lisse. The pieces now in hand are for the 
Tuileries and other French palaces, and it is entirely 
a governmental work. The tapestry is wrought 
upon the wrong side of the work, but the carpet 
upon the right, and the threads afterwards sheared 
closely, like velvet. Among the pictures is a very 
fine portrait of the Emperor, which it took four 
years to finish — one of the Empress is still more 
beautiful. I could fancy that blindness might be 
the result of looking steadily at colors through the 
glimmering lines of white thread. 

Oct. 29. The weather is unpropitious for lounging, 
but we have not been idle* We have driven about the 
city, visited the Luxembourg ; the Chapel of St. Fer- 
dinand ; the Pantheon ; and have seen, in passing, the 
Artesian well, which supplies water from a bore six- 
teen hundred feet in depth ; and the column occupy- 
ing the spot where once stood the mysterious prison 
of the Bastile. And with that sight rises the long 
succession of histories of undeserved incarceration, 
of lettres du cachet, of incredible escapes, of life- 
long imprisonments and nameless deaths, and finally, 



296 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

of that overwhelming mob that forced the command- 
ant to surrender the ke} T s, set the prisoners at large, 
and razed the dreaded building to the ground. 

We visited the Palace of Industry, which was dis- 
appointing! j meagre ; went to the Pantheon, which, 
although it has been converted into a church, still 
wears the temple air, and is a noble edifice. 

The Chapel of St. Ferdinand is erected upon the 
spot where the Due d'Orleans died, after a fall from 
his carriage, in 1842. It is a beautiful monument — 
a gem of a chapel, and contains a fine effigy of the 
duke in marble, executed by Triquiti. Behind the 
altar is the sacristy, which contains a large painting- 
representing the scene of his death, with the portraits 
of the royal family present at the time. 

Upon what a slender thread hang the destinies of 
nations ! The restiveness of a pair of horses, in all 
probability, changed the dynasty of the French 
throne ; for the duke had a strong hold upon the 
affections of the French people, and might have suc- 
ceeded his father in peace. Nevertheless, the French 
need an iron hand at the helm, and they have it now. 

AYe went to the beautiful palace of the Luxem- 
bourg; I believe the most ancient of the French 
palaces. It is now used as a senate house. The 
halls are all adorned with modern pictures, of living 
artists, in which the two Napoleons figure as the 
foreground. The chief room, in size and adornings, 
is the throne room; a lofty and spacious saloon, 
gilded and decorated with elaborate art 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 297 

The Senate Chamber is a very handsome council 
room. It has chairs of green velvet, ranged in a 
semi-circle, rising in. rows, one above another; the 
tribune of the president, and the seats of the minis- 
ters directly below it, occupying one side of the 
room. A small ante -room adjoining is shown as 
having been used by Kobespierre for a prison, during 
the time of the Girondins. 

Last of all, and most elaborate, is the bed chamber 
of Mary of Medici, the queen of Henry Quatre. 
Upon the ceiling is a painting of Mary, by Eubens, 
and the walls are covered with the works of great 
artists. It has been kept in beautiful preservation, 
and the attendant said that there had been millions 
expended upon its decorations. 

It is now the place where the civil contract is 
signed, upon the occasion of the marriage of any 
of the senators. The gardens are beautiful, but the 
situation of the palace is any thing but desirable. 
We have another French palace to visit to-morrow, 
but I feel a little like repeating the formula by which 
the Grand Monarque was pleased to be addressed at 
the morning reception of his courtiers. "Sire, Marly!" 
But that scene of almost fabulous extravagance has 
sunk into desolation and oblivion. 

20 



298 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTER XV. 

FRANCE. 

Versailles — Pere la Chaise — Havre — English Channel . 

I scarcely know how to begin a description of a 
day spent in exploring the beauties of such a place 
as Versailles. The many descriptions of the place 
which I have seen, have failed to convey to my own 
imagination any proper idea of its magnificence; and 
any jottings of my own can only recall to myself the 
pleasure of the day — not by any means to convey 
any conception of it to another. We went by rail 
through a very pleasing country, passing the forest 
of St. Cloud ; a place of much interest as a favorite 
residence of the first Napoleon, but not at present 
open to the public, as it is occupied as a summer 
palace by the present Emperor. 

The country is more hilly than I had supposed : 
the railway ascends continuall} r , and passes through 
a number of long tunnels, Versailles being two hun- 
dred feet higher than Paris. It must be a charming 
drive during the early summer. It gave me the first 
real idea of the compactness of population in this 
country. The whole route, except by the pleasure 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 299 

grounds, leads through a succession of towns and 
villages, forming an almost continuous suburb. 

We arrived early at the gates, and were fortunate 
in securing the services of Marchand, the palace 
guide; a former valet to Napoleon; an old man of 
seventy -seven vigorous years, who has seen eleven 
different governments in France. He saw Marie 
Antoinette queen in these very grounds, and, judging 
from the versatility of the French genius, he may 
yet add some dynasties to his present experience. 

The old servant has been a more discriminating 
and profound observer of human character and 
events than many a politician of higher rank, and 
knew all the points of real lasting interest in the 
palace and its history. Pie aptly said, "there are 
many fine cities in the world, but one Versailles." 

It is the most spacious of royal abodes, taking into 
account the grounds, and the smaller establishments 
of the Trianons. It is the focus of seven wide 
avenues of approach, which radiate to the palaces and 
principal cities of the empire. We enter a paved 
court of great extent, around which the palace 
buildings form three sides of an irregular hollow 
square. The middle, or main building was erected 
by Louis the Thirteenth, and is distinguished by the 
introduction of red stone or brick in the facade. 
Among the buildings of the left wing is an excellent 
exterior view of the chapel. 

In the midst of the court of entrance stands an 
immense equestrian statue of Louis Quatorze, who 



300 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

completed the splendid edifice, and held his luxuri- 
ous, almost oriental court here, during the long years 
in which he lived to oppress the nation, and to draw 
from it the resources which he lavished upon foreign 
wars and domestic extravagance. The splendor 
which so dazzled the world during his reign, has 
sunk into a darkness from which neither historian 
nor poet dares longer attempt to extricate it. Around 
the court are arranged busts of distinguished men, 
recently transferred from Paris. Directly in front of 
the great entrance, and looking down the long 
avenue which leads to Paris, is the balcony upon 
which Marie Antoinette led her children, in response 
to the furious demand from the mob, on the fatal 
day of that terrible outburst And there, when the 
same mob, thirsting for her blood, demanded that she 
should put away the children whose presence was her 
protection, she put them firmly back, and stood alone, 
royally brave, in her undefended womanhood ; until 
even that brutal multitude was, for the moment, dis- 
armed, and reserved her, with a cruel forbearance, 
for a sadder fate. 

The unhappy Marie, with the sins of many gener- 
ations visited upon her fair young head, was the last 
mistress of this wonderful domain. 

After the devastating fury of the revolution had 
wrought its will, it fell into neglect and desolation ; 
until Louis Philippe restored its noble saloons, and 
made of its long galleries a museum of art, such as 
may well attract the admiration of the world : and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 301 

the magnificent palace and park are now royally 
kept for the pleasure of that public which was, of 
old, royally oppressed. - 

As the palace was not yet open, we made our first 
visit to the pleasure grounds ; and I can 'do very little 
towards describing them. 

The combination of wide avenues, broad terraces, 
fountains filled with groups of statuary, smooth lawns, 
closely clipped hedges and pyramids of yew; artifi- 
cial lakes and canals, grottoes, copse and forest, is 
something passing my powers' of description. , 

From the private front of the palace, the view 
looks down a broad avenue, descending by stone steps 
to a very large fountain, and, beyond, to another still 
lower ; and the distance is bounded by the pretty 
sheet called the Swiss Water, shut in on each side by 
the forest. 

The tall dark yews are trimmed in various forms, 
chiefly pyramidal, and the box forms a broad hedge 
lining the stone parapets with a continuous arbor. 

At every opening a new fountain presents itself, 
all adorned with sculptures ; and the fountains take 
their name from the groups— such as the Diana 
fountain — the Neptune — the Latona, &c. 

The wide parterres were stripped of their bloom, 
but the lawns were still green and smooth as velvet ; 
and it needed little effort of the imagination to pic- 
ture the scene when the waters are in full play, and 
the flowers in all their beauty. 

We went through the stately forest, by paths 



302 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

thickly strewn with the brown and yellow leaves of 
autumn, to a charming artificial grotto, called Apollo's 
Bath. It is adorned with large statues of gods and 
animals, and the spot is as natural in rocks and 
water as a dell in the mountains of Switzerland. 

The day was unpropitious for an out-door excur- 
sion, but we walked miles through the beautiful 
grounds. 

We,. next visited the Grand Trianon, a summer 
palace built by Louis Quatorze for Madame Montes- 
pan, and afterwards inhabited by La Valliere, be- 
coming finally the possession of Madame Maintenon. 

The Petit Trianon, with its Swiss surroundings, 
built by Louis the Fifteenth for the Duchess Dubarry, 
we had no time to explore. 

Both these abodes, fit exponents of the days of 
the grand monarch, were given by the better Louis 
to Marie Antoinette; and the Grand Trianon was 
one of the homes of Napoleon and Josephine. It is 
an elegant dwelling, adorned with frescoes, paintings, 
sculpture and carvings. It was prepared for an ex- 
pected visit of Queen Victoria, who, however, pre- 
ferred St. Cloud, and did not occupy it. It still 
remains as prepared for the expected guest. 

The interest of the Trianon centered in the apart- 
ments of Napoleon, which remain precisely as occu- 
pied by him — his study, with the very table and 
chair of his habitual use, unchanged — his council 
room and bed room. 

In the council room is a table covered with a faded 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 303 

velvet cloth, upon which were signed the articles of 
divorce, which broke the heart of Josephine, the de- 
voted wife and gracious queen, and dimmed the star 
of Napoleon. • 

It is eminently suggestive to reflect upon this act 
of bitter injustice and its motive, under a roof pro- 
tected and embellished by the royal grandson of 
Josephine. 

From the Trianon we proceeded to the stables, to 
see the state carriages, which our guide assured us 
are such as are to be seen no where else in the world. 
The great state carriage was built for the coronation 
of Charles the Tenth. It is a most superb affair, sur- 
mounted by a crown. The interior panels are exqui- 
sitely painted, and the very hammercloth is a magnifi- 
cent embroidery of massive gold. There was also 
the coronation carriage of the first Napoleon, and the 
carriage built for the christening of the Prince Impe- 
rial ; in all seven carriages of elaborate splendor, with 
sedan chairs of centuries ago — one built for Marie 
Antoinette — a sledge hollowed out of a panther for 
Madame Montespan, and a goat carriage, presented 
to the present prince by the Sultan. 

The spotless oaken floor was polished to the top of 
its bent for the visit of the grand equerry, which was 
momentarily expected. Indeed, the trial of the day 
lay in these polished floors, which made the long 
miles of traverse as difficult and fatiguing as if we 
had been treading upon ice. 

We reached the palace at last. Its very name 



304 WAYvSIDE SKETCHES. 

evokes the shades of that half century, which was 
truly the brilliant cycle of European history. Not 
only in France, but in Great Britain, were the great 
lights of literature, of oratory, of pulpit eloquence, 
of statesmanship and martial glory, burning in such 
a constellation of splendor as has never risen upon 
the horizon, before nor since. 

If the walls of the old palace could speak, what 
tales could they relate, of luxury, surpassing Persian 
magnificence, of beauty, of wit, of intrigue, of 
tyranny. The centre of the palace contains the 
royal apartments, and the wings the museum of 
paintings and sculpture. The King's suites of rooms 
are on the right, the Queen's on the left. 

The apartments of Louis the Fourteenth remain, 
in all respects except the furniture, as when he 
inhabited them. Some fine pieces of furniture re- 
main — the bed upon which he died, some clocks, 
two entresols, and one or two tables ; one of the last 
covered with the same velvet cloth in use during the 
King's lifetime. The bed is in a room directly upon 
the balcony of the court from which the death of the 
monarch was proclaimed as soon as the breath had 
left his worn out body, and the plaudits with which 
the succeeding government was hailed, testifies to the 
character' of French loyalty. No silent sorrow, no 
wail of grief, bespoke a nation's mourning for one 
whose reign had exceeded the length of most of 
their lives ; and yet no eastern monarch ever received 
more prostrate servility, more cringing adulation. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 305 

This bed room is the most gorgeous apartment of 
the palace. The ceilings are exquisitely painted, 
carved and gilded, and the paintings are of great 
'beauty. Next in splendor is the bed room of the 
Queen; similar in adorning, and, to my taste, more 
beautiful. The ante-room of the King's bed chamber 
is a long, elegant room, called from the shape of the 
window in both ends, the gallery of the bull's eye. 
This room is famous. In it were gathered the wit, 
the beauty, the finesse, the ambition, and the greed 
of such a court as the world has seldom seen. Here 
the vain King delighted to keep in attendance a 
crowd of flatterers, and no servility was too cringing, 
no adulation too gross to please his morbid palate. 

The magnificence of all these private apartments 
of ancient royalty can scarcely be described. Precious 
stones, curious and costly works of art, paintings 
beyond price, rare tapestries, time-pieces of elaborate 
workmanship, give one an idea of what these rooms 
must have been when they were furnished with a 
gorgeousness appropriate to the palace and its mas- 
ters. The palace is filled with portraits of the 
Bourbons, especially of the family, from Louis the 
Thirteenth down ; of the Queens of the Fifteenth and 
Eighteenth Louis — beautiful women both — to say 
nothing of the still more beautiful favorites of the 
court. We passed, during the day, through two 
hundred and sixty rooms, and eight galleries. 

The history of France, from Clovis down, is gar- 
nered up in the pictures and sculptures of Versailles ; 



306 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and it is pleasant to rest the mind and eye upon his- 
torical paintings and sweet, natural landscapes, after 
the weariness of Holy Families and St. Sebastians. 

The galleries are long arcades of elegant architec- 
ture, lined with pictures of great merit and interest, 
depicting the victories, of which France has many to 
record. The brilliant exploits of the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries, and the splendid achievements 
of the eighteenth, are here portrayed, with a perfection 
of art well calculated to stir the enthusiasm of a 
French heart, since it rouses that of uninterested 
foreigners. 

Horace Vernet has immortalized himself in the 
power with which he has rendered the splendid history 
of France. He is one of the few painters who 
possess the power of painting the human figure in all 
its spirit, and the animal in its perfection. 

There is one picture, covering the entire side of 
one gallery, which alone should make any man 
famous. It represents the surprise of the camp of 
Abdul Kadir by the French troops. In the same 
room is a splendid picture of Napoleon liberating 
Abdul Kadir — the latter a grand figure of a man. 
Besides the pictures of these battles, we find portraits 
of all the generals who have distinguished them- 
selves, especially those who rose during the republic 
and the first empire. The Napoleonic presence runs 
like a thread through all these scenes. The historic 
pictures of which I speak are a study for a month ; 
there are many charming landscapes interspersed, 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 307 

swhich we had no time properly to enjoy. These 
galleries owe their renovation to the munificence of 
Louis Philippe, than whom there could be no greater 
contrast to the great Louis. He laid no imposition 
upon the people for the embellishment of public 
buildings, but out of his private purse he devoted 
immense sums for the restoring and beautifying 
of this palace. One of the finest galleries, that 
of Battles, which bears also the name of Louis 
Philippe, is most magnificent. One of the royal 
apartments of imposing elegance, is the Jpall room, 
with a small saloon at either end, called respectively 
the saloons of War and Peace. The^^ are beautifully 
painted in frescoes appropriate to their titles. In 
one of them Marchand pointed to a corner by a 
window, saying that there Madame Montespan lost 
at play four million of francs in one night. From 
such seeds as these sprang the deadly Upas whose 
poisoned branches overshadowed the empire for 
many years, and whose roots still lurk in the soil, 
watered to fruitfulness by the blood and tears of half 
a century. 

Another splendid hall, called the Glazed, is lined 
on both sides with mirrors set like windows, which 
reduplicate the objects of the room, giving it the 
appearance of a triple hall of immense size. It is 
lighted by a skylight, stretching the entire length of 
the gallery. The corridors and staircases correspond 
in beauty and art with the saloons and galleries. 

The Salle de Spectacle, a theatre for royalty alone, 



308 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

a gem set in the midst of these gorgeous galleries, * 
is capable of holding two thousand spectators. It is 
semi-circular in form; the seats are cushioned with 
crimson velvet, and rise in gilded galleries, lined with 
mirrors, which reflect the magnificent lustres with 
which the saloon is hung. 

Among the spectacles which I should like to see, 
would be this exquisite place of display in full 
brilliancy of light, and scenery, and music, and rank 
and beauty. 

The chapels, both of the palace and the Trianon, 
are beautiful — the latter far the prettiest. I think it 
was introduced in the time of Madame Maintenon. 
This deserted palace emploj's the labor of one hundred 
and eighty attendants ; to a utilitarian eye it seems 
too great a loss to royalty, to lay out of its dwellings 
the palace which, of all its possessions, is most befit- 
ting its abode. 

All this conveys not even a meagre idea of the 
magnificence of this vast edifice — this one Versailles, 
which crowns the long splendor of royal dwellings 
with a diadem of riches which scarcely belongs to the 
home of any other kings in the world. 

Oct 31. Visited Pere la Chaise, which, apart from 
the fact of its having been the first city cemetery be- 
yond the churchyard burial places in the midst of the 
population, and its affording a noble view of Paris, 
possesses less interest than most cemeteries. The 
largest and most elaborate of the monuments is that 
of the Russian princess Demidoff: the one most 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 309 

worthy of a pilgrimage is the small temple, where lie 
side by side, unworthy conjunction, the effigies of 
Abelard and the unhappy Heloise. 

Most of the monuments consist of small chapels, 
like boxes, in close contiguity, within which are hung 
garlands of immortelles, and sometimes of beads. 
Sometimes beautiful natural flowers stand in pots 
upon the little altar, and more frequently bouquets 
of artificial flowers supply their place. The French 
taste is, for many reasons, more successful in behalf 
of the living than of the dead, and the cemetery is 
a stiff one. 

The most touching of all the resting places, to me, 
was a small plot, enclosed by an iron railing, with a 
hedge — without monument or inscription. By care- 
ful inspection one finds, rudely scratched upon the 
gate, as if by the point of a nail — Ney. It is a text 
for a volume of sermons. 

We looked into the Jews' burial ground, which 
seems beautifully kept, with a quiet, un-Frenchy 
seclusion — the monument of Eachel is near its 
entrance. We saw the tombs of various French 
authors, and the statue of Casimir Perier, but found 
an hour or two in the streets of the necropolis a 
sufficient type of the whole. 

Called at the American Minister's, and for the 
succeeding wet days did little beyond the shop- 
ping, which seems here to be never at an end. 
It is a beautiful, gay, well governed city, and its 
streets are charming; but Paris has taken no 



310 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

hold upon my affections — not so much as by a hair's 
breadth. 

Nov. 4. We came down to Normandy through a 
beautiful undulating country, much finer and more 
picturesque than the route from Chambeiy. The 
cultivation seems to be conducted with great care, 
but the soil does not look fertile. The whole route 
was a succession of field and forest, village, chateau, 
park, church and tower. The ancient city of Eouen 
lies beside the way, with two grand old edifices 
towering above it; the cathedral, with a still un- 
finished spire, and the still more beautiful church of 
St. Ouen. 

We enjoyed the day at Havre with kind welcoming 
friends in the family of our Consul, and went on 
board the small black steamer at ten. 

As we groped our dark way down the steep ladder 
to the boat, whose smoke pipe was just upon a level 
with the pier, I cogitated upon what would be the 
appearance of things at low tide if this were sup- 
posed to be high. It turned out that the advertise- 
ment was mistaken in the hour, and we did not get 
out to sea until two in the morning. The passage 
was excessively rough — the gale which had done so 
much damage along the coast not having blown 
itself out. However, we learned that the shorter 
passages had been much worse, even perilous. We 
were all glad to come under the lee of the Isle of 
Wight, and welcomed the calm of Southampton 
water like mariners of the lone: vovage. We saw 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 311 

Osborne house in the distance, and Her Majesty's 
yacht off Cowes. The country must be very charm- 
ing ; the shore is bold and wooded, and the verdure 
remarkable for the season. We passed Calshott 
Castle, at present a rendezvous for the coast guard ; 
saw ISTetley Abbey, and a fine hospital on the 
mainland. 

Landed at one o'clock, and at three set off for 
London, through a country such as is to be found no 
where except in England. 

It was pleasant to find that our former admiration 
of the country was not due merely to the pleasure of 
novelty, but that it has suffered no diminution after 
the majesty of Switzerland and the softness of 
Italy. There is nothing else like it. The natural 
beauty of the pretty (not grand) scenery is carefully 
preserved, and superadded is a cultivation which 
seems to have reached perfection. 

The green waves of land roll back upon forests 
almost as green ; the tilled fields, bordered by 
hedges, are laid down in lines so carefully and finely 
wrought as to become of themselves beautiful ; the 
great flocks of sheep, which always enliven English 
scenery, are spread over the downs ; and here and 
there cluster the picturesque villages, with the spires 
of edifices worthy the name of church ; and quiet, 
snug farm houses, which wear the warm, cheerful 
air of home, are scattered abroad upon the soft 
slopes. 

Nor is the interest of antiquity wanting. Vener- 



312 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

able ruins, wrecks from the dim sea of the past, 
still cling to the shores of the present, and tell of 
civilization, and art, and science, in the ages when 
the wild Indian was the sole monarch of our wilds. 
At last we are in London. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 313 



CHAPTER XVI. 

ENGLAND. 

London — Madame Tussaud — National Gallery — Houses of Parliament — 
Courts — St. Thomas, Chartreux — Lord Mayor's Dav — Hampton Court — 
Sydenham Palace — Zoological Gardens — Thames River — Tunnel — Christ's 
Hospital — Westminster Abbey. 

Nov. 6. Our voyage of discovery in the great 
city has scarcely begun ; but by way of commencing 
at one end or the other of a climax, we have been to 
Madame Tussaud's. An exhibition of wax-work has 
always seemed to me one of the very last sources of 
attraction, but Madame Tussaud has proved herself a 
real artist, and would, I doubt not, have managed 
the clay of the studio with great skill. It is truly a 
wonder in its way, to see the power with which she 
has rendered the lifelike expression of face and 
figure, especially in the eye, the feature which, more 
than all the rest, would seem difficult to imitate. 

Her rooms are 1111 ed with the celebrities of the past 
century ; the best of* all is the Iron Duke as he lay 
in state, which one can scarcely realize not to be 
actual life, or rather actual death. It has a reality 
much more impressive than sculpture. 

The most amusing feature of the rooms is the 
21 



314 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

figure of Cobbett, in Quaker costume, seated upon 
one of the benches, snufY-box in hand, and spectacles 
on nose. He turns his head occasionally, with an 
intelligent scrutiny of the objects around him, and I 
believe that it is no uncommon thing for people to 
beg pardon of the old gentleman for brushing too 
near his person, Madame Tussaud's successor has 
not inherited her skill ; the recent figures are quite 
imperfect, especially the group of Americans, who 
would pass equally well for any other characters that 
might be attributed to them. 

Nov. 7. Have been to the National Gallery, to 
the Houses of Parliament, and various courts. 

In the National Gallery are works of most of the 
masters, but one should see this gallery before going 
to Italy, in order to enjoy it. The two best pictures 
that we have seen, by Murillo, are here : a St. John 
and lamb, which is a picture of exceeding beauty, 
and a Holy Family, in which the infant Saviour 
satisfies one's conceptions of what such a face should 
be, without a fault 

Another gem, which surpasses all pictures of the 
same subject, is Corregio's Ecce Homo. The great 
Ecce Homo of Guido is here, but I think no one 
could fail to feel the great superiority of the former. 
Indeed, among all attempts to embody the divine 
spirit, shining through human sorrow and suffering, 
it stands, in my judgment, pre-eminent. 

There are some charming pictures by Turner — espe- 
cially two landscapes, which by his own desire, hang 



; WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 315 

beside two similar ones of Claude Lorraine ; they are 
four pictures of restful beauty. But it seems to me 
a mistake to group such a number of pictures by one 
artist, all in precisely the same style. They are so 
often repeated that one gets sated with hazy atmos- 
phere — which, I believe, is quite heterodox to say 
in England. 

Rain, Speed and Steam, is exactly calculated to 
exhibit Turner's peculiar power. I am glad to think 
that the indistinctness of all these pictures is owing 
to the want of durability in the coloring; for the 
engravings from them are very charming. 

The Houses of Parliament are in the old Palace 
of Westminster, and have the quiet, stately magnifi- 
cence of old English architecture. But their great 
interest lies in the crowd of associations which throng 
these ancient halls. When the liveried guardians of 
such places as these take the customary fee of 
entrance, they little imagine what trains of dignitaries 
and notables enter with the silent visitor. 

The great state trials, the royal pageants, the im- 
portant councils, the struggles and the decisions of 
ages, are invisibly inscribed upon these lofty walls, 
and the imagination of the beholder supplies the 
warmth, which brings the mystic characters to light. 
We took a peep at the four Courts in session, one of 
which was the Court of Queen's Bench, and one the 
Nisi Prius. We saw that, of which every one has 
read, the assembly of the law in gown and wig. The 
former is a very decorous garb for a court of dignity, 



I 

316 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. * 

but the wig is nothing less than a deformity. It is a 
close cap of stiff gray horse hair curls : and I fancy 
it would be difficult to recognize our familiar ac- 
quaintances of the legal profession, in such guise. 

The sittings were characterized by a quiet, digni- 
fied courtesy, but I should think they would some- 
times lack the interest of animation. There is cer- 
tainly one advantage to be gained by the habit of 
discountenancing declamation — if one may not de- 
claim, he will not be likely to make many efforts at 
speechifying unless he has something to say. 

We saw the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Alexander 
Cockburn, and a number of judges, who did not need 
the judicial robes to give them dignity. 

The House of Lords is a small room, richly fur- 
nished ; and the House of Commons surprised us by 
its lack of size. When one reads of the Houses of 
Lords and Commons, he unconsciously conceives an 
idea of vastness proportioned to the importance of 
the assembly. 

It seemed to me a worthy juxtaposition, that the 
halls in which the great living men of England strive 
for the great rights of the nation, should stand hard 
by the resting-place of England's greatest dead. 

]^ov. 8. Have been to St. Thomas, Chartreux, 
to hear one of my favorite writers, Dean Trench — 
now newlv appointed Archbishop of Dublin — a 
worthv successor of that distinguished man, Arch- 
bishop Whately. By law of custom, the dean of 
Westminster succeeds to the see of Dublin. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 317 

In the afternoon we went to St, Paul's, to hear 
Archdeacon Hale. I liked them both very much ; 
it was a pleasure to hear real thinkers preach once 
more. I liked the intonation less than ever, and fear 
that I should never learn to pray in cathedral service. 
I was struck with one idea at St. Thomas'. It is a 
very common complaint among clergymen at home 
that there seems to be no way of securing the atten- 
tion of children in general during church service. 
This was accomplished here by making the children 
the most active assistants in the service. They occu- 
pied the entire organ loft, and led both chants and 
responses audibly and reverently. The proper ob- 
servance of the entire service by the whole body of 
worshippers is very marked, and might be profitably 
imitated by our own people. 

There is a manliness in the way in which English- 
men show respect to public worship, which impresses 
us wherever we go — both in England and abroad. 
They go to church as a matter of course, and read, 
and sing, and pray, and listen with an earnestness 
and decorum, which, even if it have no deeper root 
than a sense of propriety, cannot fail to influence the 
character for good, in some wise. 

Nov. 9. This, the Lord Mayor's day, is the 
Prince of Wales' birthday as well. The new Lord 
Mayor goes in state to be sworn at Westminster, and 
afterwards makes a grand progress through the city ; 
while the day is closed with an immense dinner at 
the Guildhall, which is just at the foot of our street. 



318 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

It is a general holiday, and we had a fine opportunity 
of seeing an English crowd, which, if it differed at 
all from the same affair in America, did so to its 
own disadvantage. It was coarser, poorer, more 
quarrelsome than the masses that I have seen await- 
ing a spectacle at home. 

The procession passed us in the afternoon. It was 
not much of a display. The troops of the city were 
represented only by their bands ; the main feature of 
interest being a small band of Knights, in the armor 
of different periods. The sheriffs were arrayed in 
furred robes, and the servants in the gaudiest of 
gilded trappings. The day was chill for the long 
white silk stockings of the coachmen and outriders ; 
it is to be hoped that they have learned to enjoy it, 
and to fancy that fashion supplies the lack of com- 
fort. The Mayor's carriage is a cumbrous, rather 
stately machine, apparently of bronze, drawn by six 
gaily caparisoned horses with postillions. The new 
Mayor was attended by his own clergyman and two 
mace bearers. As it is strictly a city display, there 
was no representative of the throne in the procession, 
which was, in itself, not much of an affair. 

In the evening, there were elaborate illuminations 
at the West end in honor of the Prince. Our street 
was barricaded to prevent the passage of any other 
carriages than those conveying the guests to the 
Guildhall ; and all night the police were busied in 
keeping the arriving and departing lines in proper 
order, and in summoning carriages. How tedious the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 319 

banquet must have been can be imagined from the 
fact that the arrivals began before even this early 
twilight, and it was not all over before four in the 
morning. 

Nov. 10. Hampton Court. Went by rail to Hamp- 
ton. This is a palace built by Cardinal Wolsey, and 
afterwards absorbed by bis royal master. It was a 
royal residence during many reigns, and the favorite 
abode of William and Mary. During their reign 
the buildings were reduced in number, and a line of 
grounds, once occupied by a wing of the palace, was 
planted with shrubs, and trained into a long arbor, 
called Queen Mary's Walk. The last kingly occu- 
pants of the Palace were Greorge the Second and his 
family. At the present time the upper stories are 
inhabited by the remnant of several noble families, 
who have been reduced in estate, and are here pro- 
vided with home and attendance by the Queen. One 
could bear some loss of fortune with tolerable equa- 
nimity, if it were compensated by the privileges of 
such a charming abode. 

The palace is built around a large court, and fronts 
upon the most lovely grounds, garden and park, a 
sweet, perfect picture, in which the repetition of lawn, 
tree, shrub, flower, walk, forest, gives very little idea 
of the quiet, picturesque beauty that characterizes 
this charming domain. 

The buildings are massive and rather low, but very 
extensive. The Hall, a guard room which forms the 
first of the long suite of state apartments, is adorned 



320 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

with arms of all descriptions, arranged in many curious 
figures. They represent the mode of warfare of almost 
all ages. The arrangement belongs to the time of 
George the Second, and was copied in the similar 
disposition of weapons in the Tower. The room is 
wainscoted with oak, and the old oaken floors are 
eveiy where uncarpeted. The pictures of the guard 
room are all portraits of admirals, or representations 
of naval engagements. 

From the guard room there leads out a long sue- 
cession of halls, saloons, bed rooms, banqueting 
rooms, galleries and private apartments, such as I 
cannot particularize. They all looked upon some 
charming view of park, forest, or garden, still green 
and fresh with the tender verdure which we connect 
only with the idea of spring. This is one of the 
perpetual charms of England, and they say that 
even in winter the fields retain this beauty. 

The long ranges of apartments are filled with 
pictures, many by eminent English painters. The 
portraits by Sir Godfrey Kneller and Sir Peter 
Lely, are very beautiful, which is undoubtedly 
owing, in part, to the wonderful specimens of beauty 
that were the subjects of their pencil, and which it 
would seem, should have inspired even ordinary 
fingers. 

There are some fine pictures by Gainsborough; 
one in particular, a picture of Col. St. Leger, is ex- 
tremely beautiful. There are several fine pictures by 
West ; several of Titian, among which a Lucretia is 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 321 

one of his best figures. Almost all the Italian artists 
are represented, and there are some works of Van- 
dyke. Two of the most pleasing pictures are by Den- 
ner — two heads, representing Youth and Age, in 
which the beauty of expression is combined with ex- 
quisite coloring in no ordinary degree. Here, too, are 
the famous cartoons, or paintings upon paper, by Ra- 
phael — magnificent pictures of course. They are 
upon the death of Ananias ; Elymas the Sorcerer ; 
Peter and John at the Beautiful Grate ; the Miraculous 
Draught of Fishes ; Paul and Barnabas at Lystra ; 
Paul Preaching at Athens ; and, most beautiful of 
all, Christ's Charge to Peter. 

These cartoons line the walls of a large hall, built 
on purpose for their reception. It is difficult to do 
justice to the paintings at Hampton Court, for the out- 
door picture from every window is too enticing for a 
careful attention to art within. 

From the palace we went to the gardens to see the 
immense grape vine which forms a notable attraction 
to the grounds. This vine, ninety-seven years old, 
measures thirty-six inches round its stem ; and its 
branches, in full bearing, cover an area of seventy by 
thirty feet. The weight of the fruit, now hanging in 
tempting purple clusters is about eight hundred 
pounds. The grapes are cut for Buckingham palace 
after the other graperies are exhausted, and therefore 
are allowed to hang until January. 

Such places as Hampton Court bridge over the 
mighty chasms of time, and link the present with the 



322 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

past in such wise that history ceases to seem the 
drama which it is wont to appear, and claims the 
sympathies of present actuality. To tread the very 
courts which the ambitious cardinal trod ; which 
the monarch, who lives more t for us in Shakspeare 
than in our real faith, adorned for his beautiful 
favorite, impresses one with a conception of the six- 
teenth century which no books can give. 

The foggy weather, which so circumscribes fhe 
view at this season, deprives us of the pleasure of 
seeing the far-famed scenery of Eichmond. 

Nov. 11. It was with no especial anticipations of 
pleasure that I set out for Sydenham. Every one 
has said, " You must by all means goto Sydenham," 
but I fancied it to be much the same thing as our own 
Crystal Palace, or that at Paris, which had proved 
disappointing ; and we have hitherto gone upon the 
■principle, in our sight-seeing, not to expend our 
precious time upon things of which we have a fair 
type at home. We were therefore little prepared for 
the beauty of the aerial structure, or the still more 
charming attractions of the grounds. 

If I remember rightly, the extent of the palace is 
sixteen hundred by three hundred feet, and the 
grounds enclose two hundred acres, with just the 
variety of undulation sufficient to double the apparent 
extent. 

There are a few pleasing pictures in the gallery $ 
and casts from all the greatest sculptures of Italy, 
but at present the best part of the exhibition is to be 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 323 

found among the tropical plants and birds, which are 
numerous and comprehensive, being natives of all 
the hot countries of the earth. Conspicuous in the 
wing appropriated to them, is the gigantic tree from 
I California, whose rings mark an age of three thousand 
years. Its trunk was cut just below the branches, 
and measures a hundred and sixteen feet in height, 
the entire distance to the top of the branches being 
three hundred and sixty-three feet. The trunk 
measures thirty-one feet in circumference, and the 
bark is eighteen inches thick. This bark was care- 
fully removed in sections, and reconstructed as it now 
stands. The conservatory is a wilderness of rare and 
beautiful plants ; from this enormous tree, down to 
the tender moss that fringes the borders of the basins, 
every thing is exotic, and the air is heavy with 
tropical warmth and perfume, and rings with the 
songs and screams of birds of more than rainbow 
plumage. There are also here models of the colossal 
monsters of sculpture which are found in the long- 
forgotten temples of Nineveh and Babylon — hideous 
figures, that give one such degrading ideas of the 
conceptions of humanity in the lower degrees of 
civilization. 

Another curiosity is a pyramid, representing the 
amount of gold brought to England from Australia, 
between the years 1851 and 1861. I did not learn 
its volume, but it towers up, a mass of golden 
semblance, very rich in suggestion. Various articles 
of merchandise are displayed throughout the edifice, 



324 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

evidently more for the purpose of advertisement than 
for profit. 

There were two concert performances during our 
stay, and some very fine organ music. The grounds 
are tastefully laid out with terraces, fountains^ 
mounds, arbors, lakes, and every variety of miniature 
landscape charm. 

A very interesting part of the grounds, to me, was 
the quarter exhibiting the geological formations of 
the earth. It was done under the direction of the 
late Prince Consort. The regular succession of strata 
has been carefully produced, and upon an island in 
a little lake, are huge models of the extinct species, 
constructed according to the fossils. Here the gi- 
gantic saurians gape at each other, in all their stages 
of advance, and make one devoutly thankful that 
the species is truly extinct. We had no object in 
ascending the tower, for the fog was so dense that it 
was impossible to tell whether the view beyond the 
grounds were upon city or forest. 

Nov. 12. We have visited one of the great parks, 
which spread their greenness over such vast extent 
in the very midst of a crowded city like London, that 
they- give the sense of quiet and solitude like that of 
the country. 

And in the midst of these green fields we find a 
wide area of many acres, devoted to the animals of 
every quarter of the globe. The exhibition here is 
much larger, and on a better scale than that in Paris. 
The creatures are admirably appointed, and are the 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 325 

best specimens of their kinds. The magnitude of the 
expense, and the stable persistence of such establish- 
ments as these, are as remarkable among the things of 
the old world as its mountains or its architecture, and 
tell of the slow sifting process of time as truly as its 
monuments and its palaces. 

Nov. 14. To-day we have betaken ourselves to 
the great highway which runs silently through the 
heart of the metropolis. 

We went to see the monument which stands near 
London Bridge, marking the spot where the great 
fire of 1666 broke out; a long inscription records 
the ravages of the fire, and the fact that the monu- 
ment was completed in 1677. 

The approach to the river landings is blind, intri- 
cate, and rendered difficult by the throng of vehicles 
in the narrow streets near the water side. The boats 
do not receive and discharge passengers at the same 
landing, thereby avoiding much confusion, but 
occasioning considerable inconvenience, and, to a 
stranger, perplexity. 

We took a steamer and went up to Milbank, 
passing Southwark, Blackfriars, Waterloo and West- 
minster bridges, and Lambeth Palace, and stopping 
just short of Yauxhall bridge. The most beautiful 
of all these noble structures is the Westminster 
bridge. It rests upon iron arches, with an upper 
bridge and balustrade of stone. 

There is no point of view so fine for many of 
the London buildings as the river. St. Paul's, the 



326 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

Parliament Houses, Westminster Abbey, Somerset 
House, Lambeth Palace, and the Tower are all seen 
to good advantage. 

The sail was full of historic memories. One 
could almost fancy the gay barges of the pleasure 
loving nobles, or the swift vehicles of their secret 
vengeance, among the prosaic boats that now ply 
their trade under the argus eye of the police. It is 
far better to lionize among the monuments of the 
olden centuries, than to have lived, with one's life 
upon the breath of some capricious mortal, even in 
the 'days that seem so picturesque in the distance. I 
think all real life is in the straight line of prose, 
until we reach such a distance as shall enable us 
to take in the mis'htv curve bv which the seeming 
straight line becomes the line of beauty and grace. 

We next went down the river to the Tunnel, the 
great useless wonder of achievement, by which the 
miracle of old is verified, and we walk by a dry path 
through the midst of the sea. 

This long arch is a beautiful piece of work, and 
it is utterly impossible to realize that the waters are 
tossing, and ships riding over our heads. It is 
well lighted, and its recesses are filled with small 
stands of vendible articles, which would seem to be 
a pursuit of commercial advantage under unusual 
difficulties. 

The great depth of this work, necessitating a de- 
scent of one hundred steps on either side, is alone 
sufficient to destroy the feasibility of the plan ; and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 327 

the difficulty of constructing a carriage approach lias 
proved insurmountable. 

However, all is not lost that proves impracticable. 
The great lessons of practical mechanics are never 
learned, but by repeated failures; although people 
are apt to forget that there is as much necessity for 
learning what cannot be done, as what is truly feasi- 
ble. Perhaps Brunei has accomplished no unworthy 
mission in demonstrating impossibilities by the re- 
ductio ad absurclum. 

We crossed from Wapping to the Surrey side, and 
were obliged to walk a long distance for some means 
of conveyance to the city, through streets such as 
we read of in English books — the very reverse of 
Piccadilly ; most dingy and uninviting ; that mid- 
dle ground between comfort and squaliclity, in which 
a vast number of people must make their habitation ; 
but which is almost equally repulsive to the feelings 
with utter poverty. I was glad, however, to have 
seen that phase of London suburbs, which we pass 
usually by train, and without notice. 

JSTov. 15. Went to morning service at Christ's 
Hospital, and afterwards to the gallery of the dining 
hall, to see the boys at table. It was a place of great 
interest to me. Christ's Hospital was founded by 
Edward the Sixth, whose*efhgy surmounts the inner 
entrance. Its original intention was, like that of 
many similar institutions here, the education of poor 
children ; but, like many others of its class, it has 
passed into an establishment into which entrance 



328 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

must be obtained by influence ; and is diverted to 
the benefit of a rather different class of society from 
that for which it was at first intended. 

The appearance and manner of the boys showed 
plainly that they belong to no substratum of society. 
They retain the dress prescribed at the foundation, a 
most peculiar and inconvenient garb ; consisting of a 
long blue cloth gown, belted with a leather girdle ; 
a yellow flannel tunic like an apron or short petticoat ; 
yellow stockings and russet shoes; no collar, but 
cambric bands like those of a clergyman, and no 
covering for the head save the luxuriant protection 
of nature. Eight hundred of these boys filled the 
gallery of the chapel and led the responses. In the 
chancel was a table spread with loaves of bread, 
which were distributed to the poor at the close of 
the service. The sermon was preached by Rev. Dr. 
McCall, a scholarly divine, who has been engaged in 
the work of revision of scripture ; and was in behalf 
of the Fishmongers' and Poulterers' charity. 

After service we brought up the rear of the long 
procession of boys through the cloisters of the quad- 
rangle, and established ourselves in a gallery which 
overlooked the dining hall ; a long stately room, 
adorned with paintings and stained windows ; with 
an organ gallery at the "bpposite end. Eighteen 
tables were laid in the hall, with long benches for 
seats ; and along these tables the boys clustered, like 
bees about a hive. A detachment girded up their 
gowns into their belts, and brought in the huge 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 329 

covered dishes of meat, one to the head of each 
table, and tall baskets of bread and tubs of potatoes, 
which were all deposited beside the matrons of the 
tables, who proceeded to carve the beef. When this 
was done, a chapter was read from the desk, 
prayers were said and grace chanted by the boys, 
accompanied by the organ. How devout the service, 
would probably depend somewhat upon the appetite. 
Then the viands were served, the boys still acting as 
waiters, the bread and beer distributed, and, their 
dinner being fairly inaugurated, we went home to 
our own. 

In the afternoon we went down to the venerable 
abbey of Westminster, to enjoy the magnificent ser- 
vice, and to hear the new dean, Dr. Stanley, late of 
Oxford. Altogether, it was the most imposing ser- 
vice that I have ever attended. The church, or 
rather that part of it screened for service, was 
thronged — it was impossible to obtain a seat. The 
majestic old cathedral, stretching its dim arches above 
the lofty aisles ; the stately monuments of the rever- 
end dead, lifting their ghostly forms in the shadowy 
aisles of nave and transept ; the poet's corner, not 
only crowded with living worshippers, but instinct 
with the immortality of genius ; the remembrance 
that we were encircled by chapels, the depositories of 
the royal dust, and the renowned ashes of ages ; the 
solemn swell of the great organ, bearing the rich 
deep voices of the choir through the vaulted roof; 
the prayers, hallowed and mellowed by the memo- 

22 



330 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

ries of the saints and martyrs, who have breathed 
their holy aspirations in this very language — in 
which the humblest Christian utters his lowly wor- 
ship ; and, added to the majesty of the service, the 
sermon — a clear, strong, evangelical unfolding of the 
character and work of the Saviour of men, plain to 
the understanding of the ordinary man, yet profound 
to the comprehension of the scholar — and well 
worthy the reputation of Dr. Stanley ; all this went 
to constitute a satisfaction and solemnity such as I 
never felt in any service before. Happy is a church, 
in which such a preacher can find, in such an edifice, 
such a congregation to listen to the simple gospel 
of Jesus! 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 331 



CHAPTER XVII. 

ENGLAND. 

London — Hyde Park — Theatres — South Kensington Museum — Guildhall — 
Oxford — Birmingham — Liverpool. 

We have driven about the city, and have seen 
enough of London to carry away with us some idea 
of its vast extent, and some satisfactory identification 
of localities with which we have long been familiar 
by name. 

Among these innumerables, we have seen White- 
hall and the Banqueting House, in front of which 
King Charles was beheaded; Marlborough House, 
the present residence of the Prince of Wales ; Aps- 
ley House and the Triumphal Arch ; all sorts of 
statues ; have driven about Piccadilly and Belgravia, 
and the parks; have admired the wide fields and 
charming views of Hyde Park, and the cultivation of 
Kensington gardens, and have seen markets and 
theatres. We went to St. Giles' Cripplegate, where 
Milton is buried, but were not able to obtain admis- 
sion. We walked through the by-ways of Doctors' 
Commons and have driven round more squares, and 
through more streets than I can attempt to remember. 
We saw the shop, No. 21 Bow Street, which occupies 



332 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

the site of Will's Coffee House ; the Kainbow Tavern, 
and many other spots of more or less historic interest. 

We have paid our respects to the play in London 
at four theatres, the Adelphi, the Olympic, Drury 
Lane and the Haymarket.' Covent Garden, which is 
a very fine looking structure, partly enclosed by a 
glazed roof, we did not visit ; not having a fancy for 
the English Opera, which is its present attraction. I 
am little qualified to criticise the stage, but the Eng- 
lish play is certainly far superior to any thing that I 
have seen at home. Even the inferior parts were 
good, and carefully sustained. 

Manfred, at the Haymarket, was said to be the 
finest scenic representation ever put upon the English 
stage, and I can easily believe it to be true. 

The Alpine scenery was wonderful ; mountains, 
waterfalls, and the great Jung Frau itself ; while the 
supernatural scenes were gorgeous. 

Manfred was played by a young actor, who, upon 
the authority of Macready, is destined to achieve 
great things upon the stage ; but the single utterance 
of " Manfred," by the phantom of Astarte, embodied 
a dramatic power, of which I had before no concep- 
tion. None of the theatres were large, but they were 
handsome and well appointed. 

One of the greatest pleasures that we have enjoyed 
was the gallery of pictures at South Kensington 
Museum. It is a gallery of British artists, and com- 
prises three private collections — the Vernon, the 
Sheepshanks and the Ellison. It afforded far more 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 333 

gratification to my taste than the National gallery. 
There is scarcely a picture there which has not great 
merit. [ cannot remember all, even of those most 
striking to me, but. will endeavor to rescue some of 
them from the treachery of my memory. 

Here are treasured up the works of Hogarth, Wil- 
kie, Lawrence, Reynolds, Gainsborough, West, Land- 
seer, Turner, and, of less universal note, Leslie, Ward, 
Etty, Cope and many others, who would be distin- 
guished any where except under the shadow of such 
pre-eminent genius. 

We have often sought for some trace of # the brush 
of Hogarth, and have found it here alone ; but the 
series of pictures which here represents him scarcely 
suggests the bold, strong painting which the history 
of Hogarth marks as his characteristic. Marriage a 
la mode is full of spirit, but it does not seem to 
belong to Hogarth. 

Nor are the pictures of Wilkie quite equal to 
what I had supposed, although some of them are 
very pleasing; most of them are sketches of village 
life — the best to my taste is The Refusal. 

There is a splendid full-length picture of West, by 
Lawrence, and another of Kemble as Hamlet, two 
masterly works. There are lovely real children by 
Reynolds, and the beautiful picture of Samuel, the 
parent of all the pretty engravings of infant prayer; 
but owing to the failure of some of his experiments 
in coloring, many of his best pictures are faded and 
disfigured. 



334 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

West's great picture of Christ Healing the Sick is 
full of study. I wonder if the president of the Royal 
Academy were ever perplexed upon the subject of 
his own identity, as he looked back from London 
upon the little boy in the wilds of Pennsylvania, who 
despoiled his cat of her caudal clothing to furnish 
materials for his prophetic brush. 

But, if I desired to go down to posterity with the 
prestige of loveliness, I should, among them all, se- 
lect G-ainsborough to paint my portrait. His picture 
of Mrs. Siddons is, among portraits, next to Guido's 
Beatrice in my reverence. It is said that no painter 
can do justice to a beautiful woman, but I cannot 
conceive of beauty that would not be glorified by the 
touch of his pencil. Near by, another face, that of 
a young man, looks out from Gainsborough's tints — 
the same exquisite style is visible in a portrait of 
Colonel St. Leger at Hampton Court, 

There is another picture of Mrs. Siddons at Ken- 
sington, by Lawrence ; but, fine as it is, it breathes of 
no such loveliness as this of which I speak. 

The wonderful paintings of Landseer are here in 
abundance; the famous pair of Peace and War — 
the latter has scarcely a rival ; the pictures in which 
he invests the perfectly executed animal with a sug- 
gestive humau interest, such as Dignity and Impu- 
dence ; Town Life and Country Life ; Alexander and 
Diogenes ; then the pictures of the mere animals, 
such as the Sleeping Bloodhound, and, perhaps the 
best of all, the Shoeing of a Horse. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 335 

Most pathetic in its truthfulness and simplicity is 
the Shepherd's Chief Mourner. The great dog lies 
in mute abandon of woe, stretching his shaggy head 
over the solitary coffin with a faithful, clinging ten- 
derness that touches the most reserved sympathy. 
The Sacking of Basing House shows that Landseer 
is not of necessity limited to the depicting of animal 
life. 

Among many pictures by Leslie are My Uncle 
Toby and the Widow Wadman ; a charming picture 
of the Princes in the Tower ; Queen Katharine and 
Patience ; a portrait of Queen Victoria in coronation 
robes, and Sancho Panza and Dr. Pedro Snatchaway.. 

The fall of Clarendon, by Ward ; The Foundling, 
by O'Neil ; a Yenitian scene of the Guidecca and 
the Jesuit's College ; and a beautiful picture of the 
Crypts of Roslin Castle, are prominent among a score 
of attractive paintings ; and there are two which I 
should like to see again especially. One is a picture 
of the ante-room of Lord Chesterfield, with Dr. 
Johnson among the waiting multitude. I do not 
remember the artist, but the picture is the very 
embodiment of the old doctor's character and history. 
The ill-concealed scorn of himself, which mingles 
with his scarcely restrained impatience and contempt 
for his own position and his desired patron, is 
inimitable. The other picture, by Johnson, is one of 
great pathos ; Lord and Lady Russel receiving the 
sacrament before his execution. The sentinel has 
withdrawn to the prison window, and the husband 



336 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and wife kneel, side by side, before the priest, in 
whose countenance a curious but sympathetic obser- 
vation mingles with the solemnity proper to the rite. 
Lord Russel, in devout attitude and with downcast 
eyes, is evidently wholly absorbed in the spiritual 
office — not so the wife. She kneels, indeed, beside 
her husband, but her devotion seeks no inward 
shrine ; her despairing gaze devours the lineaments 
before her, as if she would drink in the beloved image 
and weave it with the very fibre of her being. You 
can read, in that steadfast, beseeching gaze, the 
preciousness of the fleeting moments, the tenderness 
of her breaking heart. Priest, prison and sacrament 
have no place in her thoughts — "that single spot is 
the whole world " to her, and your thought outruns 
the scene, and you forget the unworthy fate of the 
noble husband in the agony of widowhood that is 
about to spread its living pall over the wife. 

I cannot enumerate half the striking pictures of 
South Kensington Museum, and have absolutely for- 
gotten Turner, that idol of English criticism. 

We came home by that very enjoyable mode of 
conveyance, the top of an omnibus, a long hour's 
ride through the dense interminable city. By Oxford 
Street and the Strand and Fleet Street, up Luclgate 
Hill, through St. Paul's churchyard and down Cheap- 
side, past the Church where the Bow t)ells are still 
swinging, and as we alight we look down the street 
to the Guildhall. And I feel, as I write these names, 
that I belong to the past generation, and that Addison 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 337 

and his compeers are still gathered in the coffee house 
at the corner of Bow Street; or that Goldsmith is 
reading the Yicar of Wakefield to Dr. Johnson in 
the sponging house ; or that the goldsmiths are nego- 
tiating a loan to Ring James in Lombard Street ; or 
that the scaffold is rising before the Banqueting 
House ; or that De Quincv is fainting with starvation 
in Oxford Street ; or that Mr. Pickwick is learning 
human nature in the Fleet; and, from all this chaotic 
chronology breaks forth the idea that this is really 
London. 

Nov. 17. We have been to the Guildhall, the " city 
building " of London. It has a rather fine effect, as 
it closes the view of King Street, Cheapside, and has 
retained its original color better than most of the 
buildings of the kind. The blackness of London 
smoke gives an effect which can not be confounded 
with the. venerable, inasmuch as new structures 
readily acquire the same hue. The principal hall of 
the Guildhall is adorned with the escutcheons of the 
various fraternities of the city, and bears panels with 
the names and dates of the various Lord Mayors. 
Here are the two uncouth wooden city giants, Gog 
and Magog. One can not help remembering, by 
contrast, the sculptures which adorn the streets and 
porches of almost every town in Italy. These figures 
are of little higher civilization than the rude sculp- 
tures of our own aborigines. 

We have been traversing the now familiar streets 
with lingering and reluctant steps. We have seen 



338 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

some of the objects of interest to the traveller in 
London, but we feel that a lifetime of wonder and 
richness lies beneath the surface to which we have 
grown, in a degree, accustomed ; that London itself, 
without regard to the vast treasures of wealth, and 
knowledge, and power, and research stored up within 
her walls, means more to us than all the other cities 
of the earth. 

Setting aside sectional prejudice and party ques- 
tions, it is evident to the thoughtful mind that this is 
the fountain from which have gone, and still go forth 
streams of blessings for these later ages. 

The acorn of civil and religious liberty was planted 
in this cold, distant, wave-defended island by no less 
than a divine hand. Protected by its poverty, its 
remoteness and its rudeness, it had nothing to attract 
the rapacity of the continental hordes, the trampling 
of whose armies would have beaten down the germ 
of the mighty shoot, the moment it had lifted its head 
above the soil. Then, the stubborn phlegmatic race 
were in no haste to turn their dominion into a hotbed, 
to force the precious plant to an unhealthy maturity. 
Thus it grew slowly upward, all the more thriftily for 
the ploughing and delving necessary to the daily 
bread of the toiling inhabitants ; sometimes watered 
with blood, sometimes shaken by whirlwind ; some- 
times checked in its growth, and reft of many a 
goodly bough, it still grew, for it was of a divine 
seed, and rooted itself strong and wide, until, at this 
moment, the nations are eating of its fruit, and re- 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 339 

posing under its shadow. And we, who have drawn 
the principles of our political life, the nourishment 
of our intellectual power, and the spirit of our 
religion from this root, must feel bound to this great 
Saxon heart of civilization by a thousand ties of 
sympathy and association, such as belong to no other 
land. Her history is our history ; her literature is 
our literature; and the reading world of our own 
land is more familiar with London and its asso- 
ciations than with any other subject of history in the 
world. 

The emotions which swell the heart in London are 
too impressive and too complicated to express or even 
to analyze. These streets which we pace, musing 
ever as we go, have been shaken by the tramp of the 
legions of Caesar ; have rung with the clang of the 
mailed hosts of the Crusaders ; have echoed the 
tread of the grim battalions of the Revolution ; have 
blazed with Romish faggots, and glittered with 
Protestant bonfires; have echoed the shouts of 
acclaim to Saxon and Norman, to Plantagenet, Tudor, 
Stuart, Cromwell, Orange and Brunswick. And, 
amid all these changes and chances, the English 
people have held on, in the main, their steady way ; 
guarding, with jealous conservatism, their ancient 
laws and customs ; maintaining with stubborn inde- 
pendence their legal rights, or those which they fan- 
cied belonged to them, against foreign foe and native 
tyrant ; fostering institutions of learning and religion 
at home, and planting them beside their flag abroad ; 



340 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

spreading the white wings of their commerce upon 
every sea, and laying the strong grasp of their power 
upon every land. The finger of England is upon 
the spring of civilization. That she is proud is very 
true — too proud even to be vain ; but when one has 
dwelt, even for a little time, upon that which is 
magnificent in her present, that which is venerable 
in her past, and glances at the scroll upon which are 
inscribed names which make illustrious the pages of 
war, of statesmanship, of law, of science, of art, of 
letters, of religion — he must, perforce, remember 
that pride is human, but these worthy objects of 
pride are English. 

We linger still in these streets, resonant with the 
echoes of centuries, and trace in their dust the foot- 
prints of Bacon and Newton, of Shakspeare and 
Milton, of Addison and Johnson, of More and Kus- 
sel and Clarendon and Chatham, of Warwick and 
Marlborough and Wellington ; we look once more at 
St, Paul's and Westminster; we thread again the 
intricacies about the Bank and the Exchange and the 
Mansion House ; and we write London indelibly and 
reverently upon our memory. For to-morrow we 
turn our steps towards the land, which, gathering up 
the dropped threads of the past from a myriad of 
nations, weaves them anew into the many colored 
web of the future — God grant with such a patient 
and skillful hand, that the fabric may endure the 
scrutiny of the long ages, and no sleazy thread mar 
the perfectness of the Master's design. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 341 

Nov. 18. We bade, at last, farewell to London, 
stopping on our way to Paddington to see a stone 
effigy of the great Earl Guy upon a house in New- 
gate Street. We soon left the great city far behind, 
and sped swiftly through the lovely country along 
the Western Railway — lovely even now, although 
despoiled of the green and gold of the summer har- 
vest, which glorified the landscape when we last tra- 
versed it. Presently the massive outline of Windsor 
Castle rose bold and sharp against the November sky, 
with the royal banner drooping from its tower to 
indicate the presence of the Queen. The broad 
oaken sea of foliage still ripples at its foot, and the 
blue haze still curls up from the bosom of the silver 
Thames, as it sweeps the base of this proudest and 
noblest of royal homes. 

Windsor stirs my heart with a pride akin to that 
of one who looks upon the towers of his ancestors, 
even though they may have long since ceased to 
belong to his own birthright. 

The stately vision soon faded in the distance, and 
we turned eagerly to the gray towers and spires of 
Oxford. This spot, venerable with associations most 
dear to the scholar, means so much, and expresses so 
little, that you feel continually baffled in the attempt 
to identify your ideal with the actual. You know 
so much of it, and you see so little, that it seems to 
be an enchanted castle, which needs only the magic 
word to open its inner depths and display treasures 
fyoary with antiquity, and precious with the riches of 



342 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

many ages. But the blank, square, impenetrable 
walls invite no scrutiny, and the stony gloom of the 
ancient corridors and staircases may well remind one 
of the days of monastic life. 

We went to Christ Church, the largest of the clus- 
ter of colleges that compose the famous University. 
The University College is the most ancient, boasting 
King Alfred as its founder. 

We visited the chapel, the dining-hall, and the 
library. This last is neither large nor pretentious ; 
but it contains, beside its literary stores, gems of art 
from the ancient masters, all the more welcome to 
our recognition for having bidden them, as we sup- 
posed, a final farewell. We drove through the streets 
and scanned the various colleges. Although of 
different periods of architecture, they all bear the 
same general features, and it needed an effort of fancy 
to invest them with the power and dignity of their 
real importance. 

A monument has been erected in front of Baliol 
College to the memory of Cranmer, Latimer, and 
Ridley, who perished here. 

A few students in gown and cap, loitered about the 
quadrangles of the college, but we were surprised to 
see the place so deserted. What was our chagrin to 
discover, too late, that of all the days of the year, 
this was the one for the boat-races of the university, 
and all the world was in Christ Church meadows. To 
have just missed this event in Oxford life, was inex- 
pressibly annoying. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 343 

We went to the Bodleian library — a world of 
books, ancient and modern, of curious volumes and 
rare manuscripts. It is next in size to the library of 
the British Museum, and contains, I believe, over 
two hundred and forty thousand volumes. There 
are, besides, models of temples, cathedrals and noted 
ruins, portraits of royal and ecclesiastical dignitaries, 
and objects of interest enough to tempt one to many 
visits. Among the curiosities is the lantern of Guy 
Fawkes. 

There is a picture gallery belonging to the library, 
but we were not particularly struck by any of the 
pictures. 

We saw there the Princesses Helena and Louise, 
attended by Dean Stanley, Colonel Ponsonby and 
the Honorable Mrs. Bruce. They are not handsome, 
but pleasing and simple-mannered ladies. 

We lingered among the treasures of the library, 
until the bell warned us to retire, and, after driving 
about the town, we came on to Birmingham, and 
spent the night at the Hen and Chickens. 

Nov. 19. We sallied forth through the smoky town 
to see some of the establishments that make Birminsr- 

o 

ham noted at home and abroad. And, among the 
beautiful things, the handsomest were the elegant 
bronzes, which I have never seen equalled. The 
clocks, mantel ornaments, busts, statues, statuettes, 
were all admirable. We saw the process of electro- 
plating, and its cognate operations, and were politely 
received and conducted through the establishment 



344 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

The manufactory of papier mache seems more like 
a magazine of art than a place of mechanical labor. 
Such beautiful things are done with dull opaque 
heaps of brown paper as make one wonder at the 
ingenuity and taste which, besides modelling furni- 
ture and household appliances and conveniences out 
of such unlikely material, afterwards elevates them to 
the dignity of works of art. There were tables exqui- 
sitely copied from Landseer ; waiters pretty enough 
to be framed for pictures ; gems of scenery and 
flowers ; sketches of ruins, castles and cathedrals ; 
portfolios, boxes, books, desks, &c, &c, all enticing 
and useful. 

We saw the process of manufacture, from the 
gluing of the sheets of paper into masses, to the 
gilding and polishing at the close. Most of the work 
seemed to be done by women. Indeed there are 
many avenues of labor and occupation opened to 
women on this side of the ocean, which ought 
to satisfy any reasonable advocate of woman's 
rights. 

Women are found in nearly all the booking offices 
of hotels ; they are the book-keepers in shops ; they fill 
positions of respectability as housekeepers, and dis- 
. v charge, with propriety, many offices, such 'as we be- 
stow upon men, who should be, instead, at the strong 
armed work of bodily labor. 

We spent a day in Liverpool, in rest from journey- 
ing, and in preparing for our voyage, Have been 
about the streets of the city ; have seen shops and 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 345 

markets ; have been watching the arrivals of our 
fellow passengers, among whom we have already 
found some acquaintances, and have been indulging 
the unusual feeling of having nothing to see, and 
nothing to do. 

23 



346 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 



CHAPTEb XVIII. 

HOMEWARD BOUND. 

Scotia — Liverpool to New York. 

Nov. 21. Once more afloat upon the tossing sea. 
The good ship Scotia stands first among the means 
of Atlantic transit, but the Great Eastern has spoiled 
us for any thing short of a floating hotel, and our 
accommodations seem narrow and stifling. 

The last gleam of sunshine departed as we left 
the shore and steamed down the Mersey to our ship, 
and we had reason to congratulate ourselves on 
taking the earliest tug — for the mail came down in 
a pouring rain, and one of the passengers, losing 
heart at the ominous commencement of the voyage, 
forfeited his passage money, and returned to await 
better auspices — to the great amusement of his fel- 
lows, who, however, learned before the voyage was 
over, to feel some respect for the good fortune of an 
individual so true to his instincts. 

We dropped anchor the next night in the harbor 
of Queenstown, and we went on deck to look at the 
distant lights, and to bid a second farewell to the 
Old World, and then betook ourselves to our berths, 
where some of us were destined to remain for a large 



m 

WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 347 

part of the voyage. We had an unceasing gale to 
New York, with almost continual sto v ni, and the trip 
was as bad as it could well have been without actual 
danger. 

My own friends maintained the most upright pro- 
priety, holding their position in the saloon in a credit- 
able and seaworthy manner, while I lay in profundis, 
meekly veiling my bonnet to steward and stewardess, 
with not even a spar of resolution left upon which to 
hoist a signal of distress. 

But this horrible malady of the sea, while it 
plunges you in despair as to your own individuality, 
does not prevent your watching with amusement 
similar results in the person of others. 

There was not even the sense of insecurity, either 
to intensify or allay the incessant self-consciousness. 
But as I lay, plunging at every billow, I could feel 
the stout, firm solidity with which the ship met the 
shock, and rose buoyant and obedient to keep the 
unswerving line towards the news boat at Cape Race. 

It mattered little to the imperturbable captain that 
the sea swept the decks; he ruled his floating- 
world, and carved his beef, and read the church 
service all the same. 

I listened to the boom of the breaking waves, and 
the swash of the returning water, to the rattling of 
cordage, and the tramp at the heaving of the log. I 
could see the faces of the few passengers who were 
abroad, as they stole along the narrow passage, 
inflexibly set in the determination to persuade them- 



348 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

selves and the rest of their world that thej were not 
at all sick. 

Then there was the daily fib of the attendants, who 
assured the patients that the weather was charming 
above, and that they would be quite well " once they 
got on deck ;" the faint wail in reply ; the carrying 
of some refractory sufferer, vi et armis, into the 
stormy air ; there were kindly neighbors, who, with 
the touch of sympathy which made that whole 
world kin, proffered grapes and champagne to un- 
grateful strangers ; and, as days wore on, the most 
hopeless began to emerge from the lower obscurit}^, 
and so at last did I. I crept to the saloon and lay 
upon the cushions, the only stretch of which my 
exertions were capable. We assembled in creditable 
force to do honor to the Thanksgiving dinner, and 
had a merry time, despite the stormy roar without. 
We had a brilliant impromptu speech from Mr. 
Ruggles, who was returning from the Statistical Con- 
gress of Nations, and we underwent various political 
demonstrations; for, albeit in an English ship, we 
were representatives of almost every sort and con- 
dition of American life. 

So passed the voyage. We found pleasant com- 
panions, not the least among whom was our kind and 
genial friend of the house of Harper — and the en- 
forced contact of our daily life developed acquaint- 
ance into familiar intercourse and intimacy. 

We discussed dress and politics, theology and sen- 
timent, poetry and education ; compared notes of 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 349 

recent travel and present affliction ; we had play and 
merriment and nonsense — and it was not without a 
touch of regret at separation, that we stood at last, 
thank God, in health and safety, upon the welcome 
shores of our own beloved land. 

As I look back upon the enjoyment of the 
last few months, I am continually surprised that in 
a journey undertaken, on my own part, specifically 
in search of health, so much has been accomplished- 
with so little consciousness of exertion or fatigue. 

In order to enjoy any success in a short tour, it is 
necessary to have a definite idea of the main points 
of interest to be sought, and then to close the eager 
eyes to many desirable things, which must be omit- 
ted, that the main design be not frustrated. 

In a reasonably successful pursuance of this plan, 
we have seen, in part, England, Scotland, Wales, 
Ireland, Belgium, Prussia, Germany, Switzerland, 
Austria, Italy, France and — Fairyland. It is evident 
that in a tour like ours we were to see more of things 
than of people ; for to scan the people minutely re- 
quires a long and loitering divergence from the com- 
mon routes of travel, and a familiar acquaintance 
with their languages — begging, that one universal 
language forgotten at the confusion of Babel, and 
pourboire, by which the traveller is made to supply 
the missing link between the justice of the employer 
and the rights of the employed, being the only 
intelligible communication to the unlearned tourist. 

Our pleasure, then, with such knowledge of men 



350 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

and society as came by the way, lay in scenery, art, 
architecture, and the associations of antiquity, of 
history, of poetry or of fiction, 
♦ And I would fain gather up more closely the 
clews by which we have threaded the labyrinth of 
foreign lands, and brought thence pictures to 
brighten the chambers of memory for all our after 
life. These various sources of pleasure are, of 
course, always more or less combined, in all that we 
have seen, but, for the sake of distinctness of re- 
membrance, I would classify them in my own mind 
under their most prominent characteristics. 

In church architecture, we have seen the cathedrals 
of* Chester and Dublin and Glasgow ; York Minster 
and Westminster and St. Paul's; of Brussels and 
Antwerp and Cologne; of Mayence and Frankfort 
and Strasbourg and Notre Dame ; of Milan and 
Venice and Florence and Pisa — and we have seen 
the great St. Peter's. 

We have scanned the magnificence of noble life 
at Eaton and Chatsworth and Warwick, and the 
palaces of Hampton and Windsor, of the Luxem- 
bourg and Versailles and the Vatican. 

We have seen the ruins of the past in Conway and 
Caernarvon ; in Holyrood and Melrose and Dryburgh ; 
in Haddon and Kenil worth ; in the still splendid 
remains of the castle of Heidelberg, and the countless 
ruins of the Ehine land ; in Herculaneum and Pom- 
peii ; and, greatest and saddest monument of desola- 
tion, we have seen Rome, whose feet are planted in 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 351 

the ruins of the imperial city, and whose head over- 
looks the ruins of the Campagna. 

We have done homage to the memory of genius 
at Stratford and Abbottsford and Westminster; at 
Grasmere and Rydal and Ambleside and Haworth 
and Ferney and Casa Guidi ; we have seen the homes 
of Goethe, of Rubens, of Raphael, and of Michael 
Angelo. 

But when I come to speak of associations, there is 
nothing to do but to measure step by step, the long 
way, every foot of which is classic ground. There 
was Chester, full of Roman and English antiquities ; 
Holyrood and the castles of Edinburgh and Stir- 
ling; London Tower; the battle fields of Waterloo 
and Magenta ; the tomb of the Invalids ; the palace 
of the Doges, the Roman Capitol, the Forum and the 
Coliseum. 

But this task is fruitless, and so would be the 
attempt to enumerate the splendid works of art en- 
graven on our memory. 

It were enough to have seen the Dying Gladiator, 
the Apollo, the Laocoon, Moses and the Venus de 
Medici ; the Aurora, and the St. Michael, of Guido ; 
the Transfiguration, of Raphael ; the Last Supper, of 
Da Vinci ; the Descent, of Rubens ; the Ecce Homo, 
of Corregio; or the Assumption, of Titian. But 
these are only the topmost peaks, beneath which lies 
a world of art and beauty which it would take a 
volume to describe. 

But no art can equal the grand and beautiful pic- 



352 WA YSIDE SKETCHES. 

tures of Nature which have marked our way from 
the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. Old Snowdon 
looked down upon us, among the green swells and 
craggy defiles of Wales ; we have rocked upon the 
waves at the foot of the gigantic headland of the north 
Irish, coast ; we have seen the clustering lakes, and the 
heathery moors, and the brown sombre hills that 
people the horizon at the summit of Ben Lomond ; 
we have followed the windings of the Teith and 
Forth through the lowland plains, down to the broad 
estuary which, widens to the German Ocean. 

We have drunk in the marvellous beauty of West- 
moreland, by Uls water, and Windermere, Eydal and 
Grasmere ; and of the lovely lakes sentinelled by 
Skiddaw and Helvellyn. 

We have climbed the steep ways of the West 
Eiding of Yorkshire ; and have seen the flocks upon 
the thousand green hills of Derby and Leicestershire ; 
we have wound through the quiet lanes and charm- 
ing fields, and landscape gardens of Warwickshire ; 
and have admired the varied landscape, and the per- 
fect cultivation of the South of England, and the 
homely comfort of the farms of Kent. We have been 
upon the banks of the Dee and the Tweed, the Ouse 
and Derwent, the Avon and the Thames. 

We have traversed the low flat country, rescued 
by Flemish industry from the sea, where the Scheldt 
pours its slow tide to the ocean ; and the well tilled 
plains of France, and the borders of the brown his- 
toric Seine. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 353 

We have seen the sun set upon the vine-clad hills 
of the Khine, from the " castled crag of Drachenfels ;" 
and we have followed the lovely river of song and 
story from the rocky fortresses of Prussia to its 
broader bosom in the plains of France and Germany. 
We diverged to the sweet valleys of the Maine and 
the Neckar, and the pretty basin of the Oos. 

We floated, humbly and reverently, at the foot of 
the dark solemn peaks that shut in the unparalleled 
lake of Lucerne ; we looked abroad from the Kulm 
of the Eigi upon the snowy billows of the Bernese 
Oberland ; we overhung the emerald valleys and the 
pretty lakes of Sarnen and Lungern ; and the wild 
chasm of the vale of Hasli, from the magnificent 
road of the Brunig pass. 

We watched the line of cascades that leap to the 
Arve from the long curtain of the chamois moun- 
tains of Meiringen. 

We have listened to the roar of the Oltschibach 
and the Seilerbach, the Giessbach and the Eeichen- 
bach, by which the waters of the upper world pour 
their foaming tribute to the sea. 

We climbed the rocky pass to the silent sea of ice 
that hangs forever between the Wellhorn and the 
Engelhorn ; we skirted the sweet lake of Brienz, 
amid fields greener than even Alpine valleys; we 
were sprinkled by the feathery spray of the Staub- 
bach, and did reverence to the immaculate Jung Frau 
from the bosom of Interlachen. 

We sailed down lake Thun, under the shadow of 



354 WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 

» 

the great Niesen ; and over the blue waters of Lake 
Leman, until Mont Blanc rose like a snowy cloud 
in the summer sky. 

We saw the " arrowy Rhone " shoot forth from the 
quiet lake, and followed the gorges of 'the Arve to 
its courses among the fastnesses of Savoy. 

"We gazed at the solemn monarch of the mountains 
with his hoary beard of glaciers, from the pavilion of 
La Flegere ; and watched the Arveiron gushing from 
the bosom of eternal ice. 

We overhung the valley of the Rhone, from the 
summit of the Forclaz ; and traversed the stupend- 
ous galleries, beneath the awful glaciers and terrific 
precipices of the Simplon. 

We saw Monte Rosa from afar, as we dreamed 
beside the blue waters of Maggiore ; and we recalled 
classic memories beside the Po, the Arno and the 
Tiber. We swept through the picturesque fields of 
Lombardy, climbed the purple Apennines, and traced 
the lava hills of Southern Italy to the foot of 
Vesuvius. 

Through all the tour, we learned to repose with 
confidence upon the comfort, security and facility of 
the means of travel, and the order and protection of 
the governments. But beneath the orderly surface 
of the continent, we could readily perceive the surg- 
ing of the unquiet people, and the alert, expectant 
attitude of the rulers — while our eyes turned ever 
more and more anxiously to the land of our own 
love, whose destiny hangs trembling in the balance. 



WAYSIDE SKETCHES. 355 

May the Grod, whose hand holds the beam of the 
balance, grant, that, reading from afar the scroll of 
the earlier world, she may learn to avoid the errors 
and imitate the successes which it records. 

That, unscathed by the fires of intolerance, un- 
shattered by the earthquake of anarchy, unshackled 
by the fetters of despotism, and unsullied by the 
foulness of license, she may yet stand forth, even in 
her youth, the fair type of that perfect liberty which 
knows how to restrain the evil, without retarding 
the good ; to repress crime, without oppressing inno- 
cence ; to cherish independence, without encouraging 
insolence ; to guard reverently the ashes of the past, 
while she kindles the signal fires of the future ; and/'t* I 
while she stretches forth one hand to give freedom 
to the nations of the earth, she may raise the other 
to swear fealty to herself, and to the God of the 
Nations ! 



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